mm. 


w^ms! 


i^  V  r ' 


w 


.1 .'  vi  ■ 


mm : : 


o  PRTTsrnF.TOTsr.    t^.    j.  -v^ 


PRINCETON,    N.    J. 


BR  1703  .M87  1863  , 

Murray,  Lindley,  1745-1826. 
The  power  of  religion  on  th| 
mind 


';helf. 


'> 


/ 


^6^  , 


//    /9  a  /^ 


./Z.  2-  <^J'^  >^ 


y. / . .  ./v  ,ycA^^-^^^ 


THE 


?OWER  OF  RELIGION 

ON 

THE     M I  X  D , 

IN 

KETIREMENT,     AFFLICTION, 

A  N  D     A  T 

THE   APPROACH  OP  DEATH; 


EXEMPLIFIED  IN  THE   TESTIMONIES  AND  EXPERIENCE  OF  PERSONS 
DISTINGUISHED  BY  THEIR  GREATNESS,  LEARNING,  OR  VIRTUE. 


'Tis  immortaHty,— 'tis  that  alone, 

Amidst  Life's  pains,  abasements,  emptiness, 

The  soul  can  comfort,  elevate,  and  Oil.— Young. 


BY    LINDLEY    MURRAY, 

AUTHOB  OF  AN  EXGLISH  GEAMMAE,  &C.,  &C, 


NEW    YORK: 

FEINTED  BY  ORDER  OF  THE  TRUSTEES  OF  THE  EESIDUAEY 
ESTATE  OF  LINDLEY  MURRAY. 

WILLIAM  WOOD,  61  WALKER-St. 
1863. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

LiNDLEY  Murray,  the  author  of  this  work,  in  his  last 
will,  bequeathed  certain  funds  to  Trustees  in  America, 
his  native  country,  for  several  benevolent  objects,  among 
which  is  the  gratuitous  distribution  of  "Books  calculated 
to  promote  piety  and  virtue  and  the  truth  of  Christianity" 
— and  of  which  books  he  desired  that  "  The  Power  of 
Rehgion  on  the  Mind"  might  form  a  considerable  part. 

New  York,  1836. 


The  Life  of  James  Gardiner  has  been  omitted  in  this  edition. 


INTRODUCTION. 


To  excite  serious  reflections  on  the  unsatisfying  and 
transitory  nature  of  temporal  enjoy naents  ;  and  to  pro- 
mote a  lively  concern  for  the  attainment  of  that  feli- 
city, which  will  be  complete  and  permanent ;  are  the 
objects  of  the  present  publication. 

Piety  and  virtue,  abstractedly  considered,  are  truly 
amiable,  and  appear  worthy  of  our  earnest  pursuit. 
But  when  recommended  by  the  lives  and  testimonies 
of  eminent  persons,  who  have  known  the  world,  and 
experienced  the  emptiness  of  its  honors,  wealth,  and 
pleasures,  they  derive  additional  importance ;  and  con- 
strain us  to  acknowledge,  that  the  greatest  happiness 
of  man  is  to  be  found  in  religion. 

Among  the  most  important  blessings,  which  the  Di- 
vine Being  has  conferred  upon  mankind,  may  be  num- 
bered, the  happy  display  of  good  and  pious  examples. 
In  every  age  and  country,  perhaps  in  almost  every 
little  district  throughout  the  earth,  he  has  placed  some 
of  his  faithful  servants,  or  returning  prodigals,  to  bear 
witness  of  his  power  and  goodness,  and  to  encourage 
others  to  a  life  of  purity,  piety,  and  beneficence. 

The  following  pages  exhibit  a  few  of  those  striking 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

examples.  In  the  quiet  hour  of  reflection,  they  may 
contribute  to  arrest  the  careless  and  wandering  ;  to 
animate  the  sincere  and  virtuous ;  and  to  alarm  those 
who  have  rejected  the  most  important  truths,  and  who 
contemn  the  restraints  of  religion  and  virtue. 

A  number  of  our  fellow-creatures,  of  different  pe- 
riods, countries,  and  conditions  in  life,  standing  on  the 
confines  of  mortality,  and  bearing  a  uniform  and  un- 
disguised testimony  to  the  power  and  excellence  of  re- 
ligion, presents  a  solemn  and  interesting  spectacle. 
With  the  prospect  of  immortality  before  them,  and 
no  longer  influenced  by  those  concerns  and  passions 
which  obscure  the  understanding  and  harden  the  heart, 
they  must  be  supposed  to  view  their  objects  through  a 
proper  medium,  and  to  speak  the  language  of  truth 
and  soberness. 

May  the  important  testimonies  of  these  preachers 
of  righteousness,  lead  us  to  just  and  seasonable  reflec- 
tions on  the  state  of  our  own  minds ;  and  produce  a 
reverent  application  to  our  heavenly  Father,  for  the  aid 
of  his  Holy  Spirit,  to  enlighten  and  strengthen  us,  and 
to  conduct  us  safely  through  the  paths  -of  life  !  May 
his  gracious  protection  be  aff'orded  at  the  close  of  our 
day,  when  the  shadows  of  the  evening  shall  approach, 
the  glittering  vanities  of  the  world  be  obscured,  and 
all  its  friendships  and  resources  be  found  unavailing ! 

Trials  and  discouragements  may,  indeed,  be  expected 
to  assail  us,  in  this  state  of  being. — On  surveying  our 
past  lives,  we  must  all  be  conscious,  that,  in  numerous 
instances,  we  have  violated  the  Divine  Law,  and  in- 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

curred  the  penalty  due  to  our  disobedience.  And  this 
view  of  our  condition  often  occasions  deep  regret ;  and 
is  sometimes  apt  to  overwhelm  the  drooping  and  diffi- 
dent mind. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  our  deviations  from 
the  paths  of  rectitude,  we  are  encouraged  to  ask,  and 
to  hope  for  mercy.  The  goodness  of  God  has  freely 
offered  to  pardon  all  our  sins,  and  receive  us  into  favor, 
if  we  sincerely  repent,  and  unfeignedly  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  In  the  Revelation  of 
his  will  to  mankind,  the  great  design,  conspicuous 
throughout,  is,  to  manifest  his  love  and  compassion 
towards  our  fallen  race,  and  to  accomplish  our  salva- 
tion. "His  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works." 
"  He  taketh  pleasure  in  those  who  hope  in  his  mercy." 
"As  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth 
them  that  fear  him.  For  he  knoweth  our  frame  :  he 
remembereth  that  we  are  dust."  The  blessed  Re- 
deemer "came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners — to 
seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost."  And,  to  in- 
crease our  gratitude  and  trust,  he  has  graciously  as- 
sured us,  that  "there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the 
angels  of  God,  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth." — These, 
and  many  other  passages  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  afford 
an  abundant  source  of  consolation  and  encouragement, 
to  the  truly  humble  and  penitent  believer  in  Christ. 
And  when  applied  to  the  heart  by  Divine  Grace,  they 
produce  in  us  a  holy  confidence  and  joy. 

Though  the  love  and  mercies  of  God  are  great  be- 
yond expression,  yet,  for  wise  purposes,  his  children 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

are  not  equally  favored  by  him,  on  the  bed  of  languish- 
ing and  death.  But  they  are  all  permitted  to  hope, 
that,  when  this  awful  period  approaches,  He  will  pre- 
serve them  from  being  distressed  with  mournful  retro- 
spects on  the  past,  or  with  gloomy  apprehensions  of 
the  future  :  that  redeeming  love  will  calm  their  fears 
and  disquietudes ;  sustain  them  under  every  conflict ; 
and  animate  them  with  the  prospect  of  being  soon  ad- 
mitted into  the  mansions  of  eternal  felicity. 


ADVERTISEMENT 


In  the  latter  editions  of  this  work,  the  author  has 
been  solicitous  to  make  it  acceptable,  not  only  to  per- 
sons of  mature  years,  but  also  to  many  in  younger 
life.  As  the  characters  which  it  contains,  exhibit  a 
great  variety  of  striking  and  animating  views  of  piety 
and  virtue,  and  strongly  recommend  the  Christian  reli- 
gion in  particular  ;  he  indulges  a  hope,  that  instructors 
of  youth  will  deem  it  a  suitable  book  to  be  read,  occa- 
sionally, by  the  higher  classes  of  their  pupils.  It  is  of 
great  importance  to  impress  young  minds  with  favor- 
able sentiments  of  virtue  and  goodness;  and  to  con- 
vince them,  by  practical  evidence,  that  religion  affords 
the  best  support  and  enjoyment,  in  this  life,  and  the 
only  sure  ground  of  happiness  in  the  world  to  come. 

To  render  the  performance  more  instructive,  as  well 
as  more  interesting,  the  author  has  introduced  into  it 
many  important  moral  sentiments,  and  many  reflections 
of  a  relio-ious  nature,  as  well  as  a  considerable  portion 
of  useful,  biographical  information.  The  introductory 
narratives  relative  to  the  subjects  of  the  work,  will,  he 
presumes,  be  found  intimately  connected  with  its  chief 
design.  They  gratify  curiosity,  respecting  the  general 
character  ot  the  persons  whose  solemn  sentiments  are 
exhibited  ;  they  confer  additional  importance  on  the 
testimonies  in  favor  of  religion  ;  and  they  relieve  the 
mind  from  the  effect,  which  a  succession  of  deeply 
serious  matter  would  occasion. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 


PAaa 


Job  —  Solomon —  Cyrus  —  Confucius  — Socrates — Ste- 
phen, THE  Protomartyr — The  Apostle  Paul — Ig.va- 
Tius — PoLYCARP — The  Venerable  Bede — Louis  IX. 
King  of  France — Pope  Eugenius — Cardinal  Beau- 
fort— C^SAR  Borgia 11 

CHAPTER    II. 

Cardinal  TVolsey — Sir  John  Mason — Emperor  Charles 
Y. — Sir  Thomas  Smith  —  Bernard  Gilpin — Jane, 
Queen  of  Navarre — Sir  Francis  Walsingham — La- 
dy Jane  Grey — Sir  "Walter  Raleigh  —  Richard 
Hooker 57 

CHAPTER    III. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney — Sir  Christopher  Hatton — Lord 
Bacon — Sir  Henry  Wotton — Peter  Du  Moulin — 
Doctor  Donne — Philip  III,  King  of  Spain — Catha- 
rine Bretterg — Oxenstiern,  Chancellor  of  Sweden 
— Hugo  Grotius — John  Selden — Cardinal  Richelieu 
— Lord  Harrington — Salmasius 100 

CHAPTER    lY. 

Cardinal  Mazarine— Bulstrode  Whitelocke — Anna 
Maria  Schurman — Sir  Matthew  Hale — Du  Rexti — 
Princess  Elizabeth — William  Mompesson — Admiral 

Penn , , 133 

1* 


X  CONTENTS. 

■5 

CHAPTER    V. 

PAGB 

Pascal — Robert  Boyle — John  Locke — John  Janeway 
— Eael  of  Marlborough 162 

CHAPTER    VI. 

Lady  Rachel  Russel — Jane  Ratcliffe — Sir  Isaac 
Newton — Bishop  Burnet — John,  Earl  of  Rochester,  185 

CHAPTER    VII. 

Queen  Mary — Herman  Boerhaave— Joseph  Addison — 
Ann  Baynard — Elizabeth  Rowe — Doctor  "Watts  . .  216 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings — H.  Housman — Doctor  Dod- 
dridge   242 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Louis,  Duke  op  Orleans — Soame  Jenyns — Lord  Lyt- 
TELTON — Jonas  Hanway — Anthony  Benezet — James 
Hervey — Altamont,  or  the  Death  of  the  Libertine,  257 

CHAPTER    X. 

Baron  Haller — John  Howard — Newton's  Letters— ^ 
Margaret  M,  Althens — Zimmerman  —  James  Hay 
Beattie — Elizabeth  Smith — Elizabeth  Carter— Sir 
William  Jones 296 

Conclusion 363 

Alphabetical  Index 367 


'^^lY  0, 


THE  POWER  OF  RELIGION 


CHAPTER    I. 

Job — Solomon — Cyrus  —  Confucius  —  Socrates — Stephen 

THE  PrOTOMARTYR — ThE  ApOSTLE  PaUL IGNATIUS POLY- 

CARP— Louis  IX.  King  of  France — Pope  Eugenius — Car- 
dinal Beaufort — C^sar  Borgia. 


SECTIOISr    I. 
THE  patriarch:  job. 

This  venerable  patriarch  was  so  eminent  an 
instance  of  the  j^ower  of  religion  on  the  mind, 
under  the  most  trying  afflictions,  that  a  short 
account  of  him  may  properly  introduce  these 
memoirs. 

In  the  first  part  of  his  days,  this  distinguished 
person  was  "the  greatest  of  all  the  men  of  the 
East."  His  possessions  were  large ;  his  family 
was  numerous  and  flourishing;  his  own  character 
was  fair  and  blameless :  yet  this  person  it  pleased 
God  to  visit  with  extraordinary  reverses  of  for- 
tune.    He   was   robbed   of   his   whole   substance. 


12  THE    PATEIAKCH    JOB. 

His  sons  and  daughters  all  perished ;  and  he  him- 
self, fallen  from  his  high  estate,  childless  and  re- 
duced to  poverty,  was  smitten  with  sore  disease. 
His  friends  came  about  him,  seemingly  with  the 
purpose  of  administering  comfort;  but,  from  a 
harsh  and  ill-founded  construction  of  the  intention 
of  Providence,  in  his  disasters,  they  only  added 
to  his  sorrows,  by  unjust  upbraiding. 

In  distress  so  poignant,  what  was  the  temper 
of  this  good  man  ?  Fully  persuaded  that  all  bless- 
ings come  from  God,  who  has  a  right  to  with- 
hold or  distribute  them,  as  he  sees  best,  he  pious- 
ly exclaims:  "The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord !" 

To  his  other  calamities,  this  domestic  affliction 
was  added,  that  his  wife,  who  ought  to  have 
soothed  and  alleviated  his  sorrows,  provoked  his 
indignation,  by  an  impious  speech.  What  firm- 
ness and  resignation  are  marked  in  his  answer  to 
her!  "Thou  speakest  as  one  of  the  foolish  wo- 
men speaketh.  What!  shall  we  receive  good  at 
the  hand  of  God,  and  shall  we  not  receive  evil  ?" 
Though  he  forcibly  felt  the  deplorable  condition 
to  which  he  w^as  reduced,  and  most  pathetically 
described  and  bewailed  it,  yet  no  doubt  of  divine 
goodness,  no  murmtvi-  against  Providence,  was 
suffered  to  rise  in  his  mind.  "In  all  this 
Job  sinned  not  with  his  lips,  nor  charged  God 
foolishly." 


THE     PATRIARCH     JOB.  13 

At  leugtli,  the  goodness  of  that  God  whom  he 
served,  and  who  had  secretly  supported  him 
under  all  his  sufferings,  broke  forth  upon  him 
with  increased  energy ;  and,  like  a  cheering  sun 
dispersing  the  surrounding  gloom,  again  glad- 
dened his  heart  with  returning  peace  and  pros- 
perity. His  riches  were  restored  to  liim  twofold. 
The  loss  of  his  former  children  was  repaired  by  a 
new  offspring.  His  name  became  again  renowTied 
in  the  East ;  "  and  the  latter  end  of  Job  was  more 
blessed  than  the  beginning." 


SECTION    II. 

SOLOMON. 

Solomon  is  one  of  the  moat  interesting  and 
extraordinary  characters  mentioned  in  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  The  advice  which  this  prince  received 
from  his  father  David,  a  short  time  before  his  de- 
cease, is  very  remarkable ;  and  doubtless  made  a 
deep  impression  on  his  mind:  "Thou,  Solomon, 
my  son,  know  thou  the  God  of  thy  father;  and 
serve  him  with  a  perfect  heart,  and  with  a  willing 
mind :  for  the  Lord  searcheth  all  hearts.  If  thou 
seek  him  he  will  be  found  of  thee:  but  if  thou 
forsake  him,  he  will  cast  thee  off  for  ever.'* 

This  king  having  made  a  great  and  solemn 
offering  to  God,  soon  after  his  accession  to  the 
throne,  the  Lord  was  well  pleased  with  his  piety 
and  zeal ;  and  desired  him  to  "  ask  what  he 
should  give  him."  Humbled  under  the  sense  of 
the  goodness  of  God  to  him,  and  of  his  incapa- 
city to  govern  so  numerous  a  people,  he  de- 
clared that  "  he  was  but  a  little  child :"  and, 
instead  of  riches  and  honor,  and  length  of 
days,  he  desired  that  God  would  bestow  upon 
him  wisdom  and   knowledge,  that  he   might  pru- 


SOLOMON.  15 

dently  and  happily  rule  the  nation  over  which 
he  had  placed  him.  This  choice  was  so  much 
approved  by  the  Almighty,  that  he  gave  him  a 
wise  and  understanding  heart,  and  added  riches 
and  honor  to  the  gift. 

Solomon  was  directed  by  God  to  build  him  a 
temple  at  Jerusalem :  and  this  order  he  faithfully 
executed.  The  prayer  which  he  made  at  the 
dedication  of  this  grand  edifice,  breathes  the  most 
devout  and  humble  disposition,  and  the  most 
ardent  desire  for  the  real  happiness  of  his  people. 
One  can  scarcely  ever  peruse  it,  without  feeling 
a  degree  of  the  same  pious  ardor  which  pervaded 
and  animated  the  breast  of  the  royal  supplicant 
on  that  solemn  occasion.  At  this  moment,  he 
shone  in  his  highest  lustre :  nor  can  we  conceive 
any  thing  upon  earth  more  dignified  and  majestic, 
than  his  deportment  on  the  dedication  of  this 
sacred  stru<M:ure.  We  ai'e  compelled  to  revere 
the  character  of  the  monarch,  who  with  such 
uncommon  zeal,  stood  before  his  nobles,  his 
princes,  and  his  people,  as  a  preacher  of  right- 
eousness, and  as  a  priest  of  the  most  high  God. 

This  illustrious  prince,  however,  at  one  period 
of  his  life,  so  far  mistook  the  source  of  true  hap- 
piness, as  to  flatter  himself  with  the  hope  of  great 
enjoyments  from  the  world.  He  sought  for  and 
obtained  all  the  means  of  pleasure ;  but  found  him- 
self, in  the  end,  greatly  disappointed.  The  result 
of  this  search  and  experiment,  he  gives  us,  in  these 


16  SOLOMON. 

memorable  lines :  "  I  said  to  my  heart,  I  will  prove 
thee  with  mirth ;  therefore  enjoy  pleasure :  and, 
;t>ehold !  this  also  is  vanity.  I  made  great  works, 
built  houses,  planted  vineyards,  made  gardens 
rttid  orchards,  and  planted  trees  in  them  of  all 
kinds  of  fruits.  I  procured  servants  and  maidens ; 
I  gathered  silver  and  gold,  and  the  peculiar 
treasure  of  kings.  I  obtained  men  and  w^omen 
gingers,  and  the  delights  of  the  sons  of  men,  as 
musical  instruments,  and  those  of  all  sorts.  So  I 
was  great,  and  increased  more  than  all  that  were 
before  me  in  Jerusalem:  and  whatever  my  eyes 
desired,  I  kept  not  from  them ;  I  withheld  not  my 
heart  from  any  joy.  Then  I  looked  on  the  works 
which  my  hands  had  wrought;  and,  behold!  all 
was  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

After  this  full  persuasion,  that  real  happiness 
was  not  to  be  found  in  sensual  pleasure  or  worldly 
honors,  he  concludes  with  solemnly  recommend- 
ing piety  and  virtue,  as  the  great  objects  for  which 
we  were  brought  into  being;  and  which  will  not 
only  yield  the  best  enjoyments  of  life,  but  will  sup- 
port us  in  that  day,  Avhen  we  must  make  up  our 
final  account.  "  Fear  God,  and  keep  his  command- 
ments. This  is  the  whole  duty  of  man.  For  God 
will  bring  every  work  into  judgment,  whether  it 
be  good  or  whether  it  be  evil." 

"When  we  reflect,"  says  Dr.  Blair,  "on  the 
character  of  him  who  delivered  these  sentiments, 
we  cannot  but  admit  that  they  deserve  a  serious 


SOLOMON.  17 

and  attentive  examination.  For  they  are  not  the 
declarations  of  a  pedant,  who,  from  an  obscure 
retirement,  declaims  against  pleasures  which  he 
never  knew.  They  are  not  the  invectives  of  a 
discontented  man,  who  takes  revenge  upon  the 
world  by  satirizing  those  enjoyments  which  he 
sought  in  vain  to  obtain.  They  are  the  conclu- 
sions of  a  great  and  prosperous  prince,  who  had 
once  given  full  scope  to  his  desires;  who  was 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  life  in  its  most  flatter- 
ing scenes:  and  who  now,  reviewing  all  that  he 
had  enjoyed,  delivers  to  us  the  result  of  long  ex- 
perience and  tried  wisdom. 


SECTION    III. 
CYRUS. 

Cteus  may  justly  be  considered  as  the  most 
accomplished  prince  that  we  read  of  in  profane 
history.  He  was  possessed  of  wisdom,  moderation, 
magnanimity ;  a  genius  for  forming,  and  prudence 
for  executing,  the  greatest  designs.  Of  this  ex- 
traordinary person,  the  Almighty  said:  "He  is 
my  shepherd,  and  shall  perform  all  my  pleasure :" 
and  he  was  accordingly  made  use  of  as  an  eminent 
instrument  to  punish  wicked  nations,  and  to  pro- 
mote the  Divine  will  respecting  the  children  of 
Israel. 

When  this  great  prince  perceived  the  approach 
of  death,  he  ordered  his  children,  and  the  chief 
officers  of  state,  to  be  assembled  around  him.  On 
this  occasion,  the  influence  of  religion  on  his  heart 
was  very  conspicuous.  He  solemnly  thanked  the 
Supreme  Being  for  all  the  favors  he  had  con- 
ferred upon  him,  through  the  course  of  his  life ; 
implored  the  same  care  and  protection  for  his 
children,  his  country,  and  his  friends ;  and  de- 
clared his  elder  son,  Cambyses,  his  successor, 
leaving  the  other  several  very  considerable  gov- 
ernments.    He  gave  excellent  instructions  to  both 


CYRUS.  19 

of  them.  He  observed,  that  the  chief  strength 
and  support  of  the  throne,  were  not  vast  extent  of 
country,  number  of  forces,  nor  immense  riches,  but 
just  veneration  toward  God,  good  understanding 
between  brethren,  and  the  acquisition  of  true  and 
faithful  friends. 

"I  conjure  you,  therefore,"  said  he,  "my  dear 
children,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  to  respect  and 
love  one  another,  if  you  retain  any  desire  to  please 
me  for  the  future.  For  I  do  not  think  you  will 
judge  me  to  have  no  existence,  because  you  will 
not  see  me  after  my  death.  You  have  never  yet 
seen  my  soul :  you  must,  however,  have  known  by 
its  actions,  that  it  really  existed.  Can  you  believe, 
that  honors  would  still  be  paid  to  persons,  whose 
bodies  are  now  but  ashes,  if  their  souls  had  no 
longer  any  being  or  power  ?  No,  no,  my  sons ;  I 
could  never  believe  that  the  soul  Jived  only  while 
in  a  mortal  body,  and  died  when  separated  from  it. 
But  if  I  mistake,  and  nothing  of  me  shall  remain 
after  death,  fear  the  Deity,  who  never  dies,  who 
sees  all  things,  and  whose  power  is  infinite.  Fear 
him;  and  let  that  fear  prevent  you  from  ever 
doing,  or  deliberating  to  do,  anything  contrary  to 
religion  and  virtue.  Xext  to  him,  fear  mankind, 
and  the  ages  to  come.  You  cannot  be  buried  in 
obscurity :  you  are  exposed  upon  a  grand  theatre 
to  the  view  of  the  world.  If  your  actions  are  up- 
right and  benevolent,  be  assured  they  will  augment 
your  power  and  glory.     With  regard  to  my  body. 


20  CYRUS. 

my  sons,  when  life  has  forsaken  it,  inclose  it  neither 
in  gold  nor  silver,  nor  in  any  other  matter  what- 
ever.    Restore  it  immediately  to  the  earth." 

Perceiving  himself  to  be  at  the  point  of  death, 
he  concluded  with  these  words :  "  Adieu,  dear 
children!  May  your  lives  be  happy!  Carry  my 
last  remembrance  to  your  mother.  And  you,  my 
faithful  friends,  those  absent  as  well  as  those  that 
are  present,  receive  this  last  farewell!  May  you 
live  in  peace !"  After  he  had  said  this,  he  covered 
his  face  and  died,  greatly  lamented  by  the  nations 
over  whom  he  had  reigned. 


SECTION    IV. 
CONFU  CIUS. 

CoxFucius,  the  celebrated  Chinese  philosopher, 
was  born  in  the  kingdom  of  Lou,  551  years  before 
the  Christian  era.  When  a  child,  he  had  a  grave 
and  serious  deportment,  Avhich  gained  him  respect, 
and  plainly  foretold  what  he  would  one  day  be. 
But  he  was  most  distinguished  by  his  miexampled 
and  exalted  piety.  He  honored  his  relations;  he 
endeavored  in  all  things  to  imitate  his  grandfather, 
who  was  then  alive  in  China,  and  a  very  pious  man: 
and  it  was  observable  that  he  never  eat  anything, 
but  he  prostrated  himself  upon  the  ground,  and 
offered  it  first  to  the  Supreme  Lord  of  heaven. 

One  day,  while  he  was  a  child,  he  heard  his 
grandfather  fetch  a  deep  sigh ;  and  going  up  to 
him  with  much  reverence,  "  May  I  presume,"  said 
he,  "  without  losing  the  respect  I  owe  you,  to  in- 
quire into  the  occasion  of  your  grief?  Perhaps 
you  fear  that  your  posterity  will  degenerate*  from 
your  virtue,  and  dishonor  you  by  their  vices." 

"  What  put  this  thought  into  your  head,"  said 
the  old  man  to  him;  "and  where  have  you  learned 
to  speak  after  this  manner?" 


22  CONFUCIUS. 

"From  yourself,"  replied  Confucius:  "I  attend 
diligently  to  you  every  time  you  speak;  and  I  have 
often  heard  you  say,  that  a  son,  who  does  not  by 
his  virtues  support  the  glory  of  his  ancestors,  does 
not  deserve  to  bear  their  name." 

At  twenty-three  years  of  age,  when  he  had 
gained  a  considerable  knowledge  of  antiquity,  and 
acquainted  himself  with  the  laws  and  customs  of 
his  country,  he  projected  a  scheme  for  a  general 
reformation  of  manners.  Wisely  persuaded  that 
the  people  could  not  be  happy,  so  long  as  avarice, 
ambition,  voluptuousness,  and  false  policy,  reigned 
among  them,  he  thought  it  incumbent  upon  him 
to  recommend  a  severe  morality ;  and  accordingly, 
he  began  to  enforce  temperance,  justice,  and 
other  virtues;  to  inspire  a  contempt  of  riches, 
parade,  and  sj^lendor ;  and  to  excite  such  an 
elevation  of  mind  as  would  render  men  incapable 
of  dissimulation  and  insincerity.  In  short,  he 
used  all  the  means  he  could  think  of,  to  redeem 
his  countrymen  from  a  life  of  pleasure  to  a  life  of 
reason. 

He  was  everywhere  known,  and  as  universally 
beloved :  his  extensive  learning  and  great  wisdom, 
soon  made  him  known ;  his  integrity,  and  the 
splendor  of  his  virtues,  made  him  beloved.  Kings 
were  governed  by  his  counsels,  and  the  people 
reverenced  him  as  a  saint.  The  good  eifects  of 
his  example  and  admonitions  were,  however,  but 
temporary.      He   lived   in   times   when   rebellion. 


CONFUCIITS.  23 

\^ars,  and  tumults,  raged  throughout  the  empire. 
Men  had  little  leisure,  and  less  inclination,  to  listen 
to  his  philosophy ;  for,  as  we  have  observed,  they 
were  ambitious,  avaricious,  and  voluptuous.  Hence 
he  often  met  with  ill  treatment  and  reproachful 
language;  and  it  is  said  that  conspiracies  were 
formed  against  his  life :  to  which  may  be  added, 
that  his  neglect  of  his  own  pecuniary  interest  had 
reduced  him  to  extreme  poverty. 

Some  philosophers  among  his  contemporaries 
were  so  affected  witli  this  sad  state  of  things,  that 
they  retired  into  the  mountains  and  deserts,  think- 
ing that  happiness  could  nowhere  be  found  but  in 
seclusion  from  society.  In  vain  they  endeavored  to 
persuade  Confucius  to  follow  their  example : — •''  I 
am  a  man,"  said  he,  "and  cannot  separate  myself 
from  the  society  of  men,  and  consort  with  beasts. 
Bad  as  the  times  are,  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to  recall 
men  to  virtue ;  for  in  virtue  are  all  things.  If 
mankind  would  but  embrace  it,  and  submit  them- 
selves to  its  discipline  and  laws,  they  would  not 
want  me  or  anybody  else  to  instruct  them.  It  is 
the  duty  of  a  teacher  first  to  perfect  himself,  and 
then  to  perfect  others.  Human  nature  came  to  us 
from  Heaven  pure  and  without  defect;  but  in  pro- 
cess of  time,  ignorance,  the  passions,  and  evil  exam- 
l^les  corrupted  it.  Reformation  consists  in  restoring 
it  to  its  primitive  beauties  :  to  be  perfect,  we  must 
reascend  to  the  point  from  which  we  have  fa.len. 
Let  us  obey  Heaven.     Let  our  reason,  and  rot  our 


24  CONFUCIUS. 

senses,  be  the  rule  of  our  conduct :  for  reason  will 
teach  us  to  think  wisely,  to  speak  prudently,  and 
to  behave  ourselves  worthily  upon  all  occasions." 

Confucius  did  not  cease  to  travel  about,  and  do 
all  the  good  in  his  power.  He  gained  many  dis- 
ciples, who  became  strongly  attached  both  to  his 
person  and  his  doctrine.  These  he  sent  into  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  emj^ire,  to  promote  reformation  of 
manners  among  the  people.  All  his  instructions 
were  enforced  by  his  own  example.  He  was  re- 
markable for  Ills  gravity  and  sobriety,  his  rigorous 
abstinence,  his  contempt  of  riches,  and  what  are 
commonly  called  the  goods  of  this  life ;  for  his  con- 
tinual attention  and  watchfulness  over  his  actions ; 
and,  above  all,  for  his  unaffected  modesty  and  hu- 
mility. 

He  is  said  to  have  lived  three  years  in  retire- 
ment ;  and  to  have  spent  the  latter  part  of  his  life 
in  sorrow.  A  few  days  before  his  last  illness,  he 
told  his  disciples,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  that  he  was 
overcome  Avith  grief  at  the  sight  of  the  disorders 
which  prevailed  in  the  empire:  "The  mountain," 
said  he,  "is  fallen :  the  high  machine  is  demolished, 
and  the  sages  are  all  fled."  His  meaning  was,  that 
the  edifice  of  perfection,  which  he  had  endeavored 
to  raise,  was  entirely  overthrown. 

He  began  to  languish  from  that  time ;  and  a  few 
days  before  his  death  expressed  himself  thus:  "The 
kings  reject  my  maxims;  and  since  I  am  no  longer 
useful  on  the  earth,  I  ought  not  to  regret  leaving 


CONFUCIUS.  25 

it."  After  these  words  he  fell  iuto  a  lethargy; 
and,  at  the  end  of  seven  days,  expired  in  the  arms 
of  his  disciples,  in  the  seventy-third  year  of  his  age. 

Upon  the  first  hearing  of  his  death,  the  prince, 
who  then  reigned  in  the  kingdom  of  Lou,  could  not 
refrain  from  tears ;  "  God  is  not  satisfied  with  me,'* 
cried  he,  '*  since  he  has  taken  away  Confucius." 

Wise  and  good  men  are  indeed  precious  gifts, 
with  which  Heaven  blesses  the  earth ;  and  their 
worth  is  seldom  justly  appreciated  till  after  their 
decease.  Confucius  was  lamented  by  the  whole 
empire.  He  was  honored  as  a  saint ;  and  so  high  a 
veneration  was  entertained  for  his  memory,  that  it 
will  scarcely  ever  be  efiaced  in  those  parts  of  the 
world. 


SECTION    V. 
SOCRATES. 

Socrates,  the  greatest  of  the  ancient  heathen 
philosophers,  was  born  about  467  years  before  the 
Christian  era.  His  sentiments  and  conduct  were, 
in  many  respects,  very  excellent,  and  command  our 
admiration.  He  was  blessed  with  extraordinary 
talents,  which  were  improved  by  all  the  learning 
that  the  age  in  which  he  lived  could  afford :  and 
he  appeared  at  Athens  under  the  respectable  char- 
acter of  a  good  citizen,  a  true  philosopher,  and  a 
wise  instructor.  ~ 

Convinced  that  philosophy  is  valuable,  not  as  it 
furnishes  curious  questions  for  the  schools,  but  as 
it  provides  men  with  a  law  of  life,  Socrates  cen- 
sured his  predecessors  for  spending  all  their  time 
in  abstruse  researches  into  nature,  and  taking  no 
pains  to  render  themselves  useful  to  mankind.  His 
favorite  maxim  was,  "  Whatever  is  above  us,  does 
not  concern  us." 

His  great  object  in  all  his  conferences  and  dis- 
courses, was,  to  lead  men  into  an  acquaintance 
with  themselves  ;-to  convince  them  of  their  errors; 
to  inspire  them  with  the  love  of  virtue ;  and  to 


SOCRATES.  27 

furnish  thoin  with  useful  moral  instructions.  In 
these  benevolent  labors  he  was  indefatigable.  He 
communicated  his  instructions  not  only  when  he 
was  in  the  chair,  and  at  set  hours  of  discourse,  but 
even  in  his  amusements ;  when  he  was  at  his  meals ; 
in  the  camp  or  market ;  and,  finally,  when  he  was 
in  prison  :  thus  making  every  place  a  school  of 
virtue. 

Through  his  whole  life,  this  good  man  discovered 
a  mind  superior  to  the  attractions  of  wealth  and 
power.  Contrary  to  the  general  practice  of  the 
preceptors  of  his  time,  he  instructed  his  pupils, 
without  receiving  from  them  any  gratuity.  He 
frequently  refused  rich  presents.  The  chief  men 
of  Athens  were  his  stewards :  they  sent  him  pro- 
visions, as  they  apprehended  he  wanted  them.  He 
took  what  his  present  necessities  required,  and  re- 
turned the  rest.  Observing  at  a  particular  time, 
the  numerous  articles  of  luxury  which  were  ex- 
posed to  sale  at  Athens,  he  exclaimed  :  "  How  many 
things  are  here  which  I  do  not  want ! " 

His  intrepid  virtue,  and  the  severity  with  which 
he  reproved  vice,  produced  the  hatred  of  men 
whose  principles  and  conduct  were  the  reverse  of 
his  own.  He  was  maliciously  accused  of  corrupt- 
ing the  youth,  and  of  despising  religion,  and  was, 
with  singular  injustice,  condemned  to  die.  Before 
the  trial,  his  cliief  accuser  sent  him  a  private  mes- 
sage, assuring  him  that  if  he  would  desist  from 
ti'ijsuring  his  conduct,  the  accusation   should   be 


28  SOCRATES. 

withdrawn.  But  Socrates  refused  to  comply  with 
so  degrading  a  condition ;  and,  with  his  usual  in- 
tegrity, replied :  "  Whilst  I  live  I  will  never  dis- 
guise the  truth,  nor  speak  otherwise  than  my  duty 
requires." 

After  the  sentence  was  passed,  he  was  sent  to 
prison,  where  he  lay  in  fetters  thirty  days.  In  this 
long  interval,  with  the  prospect  of  death  contin- 
ually before  him,  he  did  not  cease  to  enjoy  that 
profound  tranquillity  of  mind  which  his  friends  had 
always  admired  in  him.  He  entertained  them  with 
the  same  cheerful  temper  which  he  had  ever  mani- 
fested :  and  Crito  observes,  that  the  evening  before 
his  death,  he  slept  as  peacefully  as  at  any  other 
time. 

On  the  day  assigned  for  him  to  die,  his  friends 
repaired  early  to  the  prison.  They  found  him,  with 
his  chains  off,  sitting  by  his  wife,  who  held  one  of 
his  children  in  her  arms.  As  soon  as  she  perceived 
them,  she  made  the  prison  resound  with  her  cries. 
Socrates,  that  the  tranquillity  of  his  last  moments 
might  not  be  disturbed  by  unavailing  lamentations, 
requested  that  she  might  be  conducted  home. 
With  the  most  frantic  expressions  of  grief  she  left 
the  prison. 

An  interesting  conversation  then  passed  between 
Socrates  and  his  friends,  which  chiefly  turned  upon 
the  immortality  of  the  soul.  In  the  course  of  this 
conversation,  he  expressed  his  disapprobation  of 
the   practice  of  suicide ;    and   assured   his  friends 


SOCRATES.  29 

that  his  chief  support,  in  his  present  situation,  was 
an  expectation,  though  not  unmixed  with  doubt, 
of  a  happy  existence  after  death.  "  It  would  he 
inexcusable  in  me,"  said  he,  "  to  despise  death,  if  I 
were  not  persuaded  that  it  will  conduct  me  into 
the  presence  of  the  gods,  who  are  the  most  right- 
eous governors,  and  into  the  society  of  just  and 
good  men :  but  I  derive  confidence  from  the  hope 
that  something  of  man  remains  after  death :  and 
that  the  condition  of  good  men  will  then  be  much 
better  than  that  of  the  bad." 

Towards  the  close  of  the  day,  he  retired  into  an 
adjoining  apartment  to  bathe ;  his  friends  in  the 
meantime,  expressing  to  one  another  their  grief  at 
the  prospect  of  losing  so  excellent  a  father,  and 
being  left  to  pass  the  rest  of  their  days  in  the  soli- 
tary state  of  orphans.  After  a  short  interval,  dur- 
ing which  he  gave  some  necessary  instructions  to 
his  domestics,  and  took  his  last  leave  of  his  chil- 
dren, the  attendant  of  the  prison  informed  him 
that  the  time  for  drinking  the  poison  was  come. 

The  executioner,  though  accustomed  to  such 
scenes,  shed  tears  as  he  presented  the  fatal  cup. 
Socrates  received  it  without  change  of  countenance, 
or  the  least  degree  of  perturbation.  Then  offering 
up  a  prayer,  that  he  might  have  a  prosperous  pas- 
sage into  the  invisible  world,  with  perfect  com- 
posure he  swallowed  the  poisonous  draught.  Ilis 
friends  around  him  burst  into  tears.  Socrates  alone 
remained  unmoved.     He  upbraided  their  pusillani- 


30  SOCRATES. 

mity,  and  entreated  them  to  exercise  a  manly  con- 
stancy, worthy  of  the  friends  of  virtue. 

''What  are  you  doing?"  said  he  to  them:  "I 
wonder  at  you.  O  !  what  has  become  of  your  vir- 
tue ?  was  it  not  for  fear  of  their  falUng  into  these 
weaknesses  that  I  sent  away  the  women  ?  I  have 
always  heard  that  we  ought  to  die  peaceably,  and 
blessing  the  gods.  Be  at  ease,  I  beg  of  you,  and 
show  more  firmness  and  resolution." 

He  continued  walking  till  the  chilling  operation 
of  the  hemlock  obliged  him  to  lie  down  upon  his 
bed.  After  remaining  a  short  time  in  this  situation, 
he  covered  himself  with  his  cloak,  and  expired. 
Such  was  the  fate  of  the  virtuous  Socrates  !  "  A 
story,"  says  Cicero,  "  which  I  never  read  without 
tears." 

It  was  not  till  some  time  after  the  death  of  this 
great  man,  that  the  people  of  Athens  perceived 
their  injustice,  and  began  to  repent  of  it.  Their 
hatred  being  satisfied,  their  prejudices  removed, 
and  time  having  given  them  an  opportunity  for  re- 
flection, the  notorious  iniquity  of  the  sentence  ap- 
peared in  all  its  horrors.  'N'othing  was  heard, 
throughout  the  city,  but  discourses  in  favor  of  So- 
crates. The  Academy,  the  Lyceum,  private  houses, 
public  walks,  and  market-places,  seemed  still  to  re- 
echo the  sound  of  his  loved  voice. 

"Here,"  said  they,  "he  formed  our  youth,  and 
taught  our  children  to  love  their  country,  and  to 
honor  their  parents.     In  this  place,  he  gave  us  his 


SOCRATES.  81 

admirable  lessons,  and  sometimes  made  us  season- 
able reproaches,  to  engage  us  more  warmly  in  the 
pursuit  of  virtue.  Alas !  how  have  we  rewarded 
him  for  those  important  services  !"  Athens  was  in 
universal  mourning  and  consternation.  The  schools 
were  shut  up,  and  all  exercises  suspended.  The 
accusers  were  punished  for  the  innocent  blood  they 
had  caused  to  be  shed  ;  and  the  regard  and  grati- 
tude of  the  Athenians  towards  this  excellent  man 
rose  to  the  highest  degree  of  veneration. 


Many  other  instances  might  have  been  given,  of 
heathens,  who,  by  their  actions  and  discourses,  ap- 
pear to  have  been  under  the  influence  of  religion  ; 
but,  in  paganism,  Ave  find  light  so  mixed  w4th  dark- 
ness, religion  and  truth  so  blended  with  supersti- 
tion and  error,  that  the  minds  of  Christians  will  be 
less  edified  by  examples  of  this  kind,  than  by  those 
which  exhibit  piety  and  virtue,  enlightened  by  the 
rays  of  the  gospel,  and  animated  by  the  assurance 
it  gives  of  a  happy  immortality :  we  shall  therefore 
confine  ourselves,  in  the  succeeding  pages  of  this 
work,  to  instances  of  the  power  of  religion  on  the 
minds  of  persons  who  have  lived  under  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation. 

It  is,  however,  to  the  serious  and  benevolent 
mind,  a  source  of  thankfulness,  to  believe  that  the 
Divine  Goodness  extends  itself  towards  the  upright 


32  SOCRATES. 

in  heart  of  every  age  and  every  country.  All  man- 
kind are,  indeed  the  children  of  one  beneficent 
Parent,  who  will  judge  tiiem  by  the  degree  of 
light,  and  the  law,  which  it  has  pleased  him  to  afford 
them.  But  whilst  we  indulge  this  charitable  sen- 
timent, it  behooves  us  who,  as  Christians,  are  dis- 
tinguished by  pre-eminent  advantages,  to  improve 
them  faithfully,  to  the  honor  of  the  Great  Giver, 
the  good  of  mankind,  and  the  edification  of  our 
own  Bouls. 


SECTION    VI. 
STEPHEN   THE  PROTOMARTYR. 

This  excellent  man  lived  in  the  Apostolic  age ; 
and  was  remarkable  for  bis  faith,  his  wisdom,  and 
an  eminent  portion  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  it  had 
pleased  God  to  bestow  upon  him.  Devoted  to  the 
service  of  his  Divine  Master,  and  anxious  to  pro- 
mote the  eternal  happiness  of  men,  he  labored  fer- 
vently to  extend  the  belief,  and  the  blessings  of  the 
Gospel.  These  endeavors  were  rendered  successful 
by  the  support  of  his  Lord ;  who  enabled  him  to 
confirm  his  Divine  mission,  by  the  miracles  which 
he  performed  among  the  people. 

But  the  pious  exertions  of  this  upright  and  be- 
nevolent man,  for  the  happiness  of  others,  could  not 
secure  him  from  the  malice  and  opposition  of  his 
enemies,  who  were  influenced  by  a  far  diflerent 
spirit.  When  these  adversaries  of  true  religion 
found  themselves  unable  to  resist  "the  wisdom 
and  the  spirit  by  which  Stephen  spake,"  they  sub- 
orned witnesses  to  declare  falsehoods,  and  to  charge 
him  with  blasphemy,  before  the  council.  On  this 
occasion,  his  innocence,  and  the  sustaining  power 
of  his  Lord  and  Master,  were  eminently  conspicu- 
2* 


34         STEPHEN    THE    PROTOMARTYR. 

ous;  for  whilst  "they  who  sat  in  council  looked 
steadfastly  on  him,  they  saw  his  face  as  it  had  been 
the  face  of  an  angel." 

In  a  speech  of  great  simplicity  and  energy,  ancf 
which  marked  the  undaunted  firmness  of  his  mind, 
he  defended  the  sacred  cause  which  he  had  es- 
poused. He  gave  a  concise,  but  comprehensive 
history  of  the  dealings  of  God  with  the  Jewish 
nation ;  and  set  forth  their  repeated  provocations, 
disobedience,  and  ingratitude,  and  the  unmerited 
goodness  and  mercy  of  their  Divine  Lawgiver; 
and  concluded  with  observing,  that  they  themselves 
had  been  the  betrayers  and  murderers  of  the  Just 
One,  tlie  Lord  and  Saviour  of  the  world.  This 
faithful  remonstrance,  instead  of  affecting  them 
with  humiliation  and  sorrow,  for  their  heinous 
transgression,  excited  the  bitterest  resentment 
against  this  firm  and  zealous  Christian.  "They 
were  cut  to  the  heart,  and  gnashed  on  him  with 
their  teeth." 

At  this  moment,  Stephen  was  animated  by  an 
extraordinary  interposition  of  Divine  power.  "Full 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  looked  up  steadfastly  into 
heaven,  and  saw  the  glory  of  God,  and  Jesus 
standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God."  This  miracu- 
lous vision  he  communicated  to  the  council  and 
people ;  which  so  enraged  these  unhappy  creatures, 
"  that  they  stopped  their  ears,  and  ran  upon  him 
with  one  accord,  and  cast  him  out  of  the  city,  and 
stoned  him." 


STEPHEN    THE    PKOTOMAKTYR.  35 

Whilst  they  were  employed  in  this  murderous 
deed,  the  faith  of  Stephen  remained  unshaken. 
"  He  called  upon  God,  and  said,  '  Lord  Jesus,  re- 
ceive my  spirit !' "  Far  from  feeling  the  least 
resentment  towards  these  violent  and  wicked  men, 
"he  kneeled  down,  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice, 
*  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge  !'  "  What  a 
glorious  triumph  was  this  of  religion,  the  pure  and 
benign  religion  of  Christ,  over  the  passions  of  hu- 
man nature,  and  the  malevolence  of  evil  spirits! 


SECTION    VII. 
THE    APOSTLE    PAUL. 

This  eminent  apostle  is  supposed  to  have  been 
born  about  two  years  before  our  Saviour.  He  was 
a  native  of  Tarsus,  in  Cilicia,  and  a  Pharisee  by 
profession.  The  strong  powers  of  mind  which  he 
possessed,  were  greatly  improved  by  education. 
His  parents  sent  him  early  to  Jerusalem,  where  he 
studied  the  law,  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  a  doctor 
of  high  reputation ;  under  whose  directions  he  made 
a  great  progress  in  his  studies ;  and  afterwards  be- 
came very  zealous  for  a  strict  observance  of  the  law 
of  Moses.  But  his  zeal  carried  him  to  great  excess. 
He  persecuted  the  church  of  Christ  in  the  most 
violent  manner.  He  entered  into  the  houses  of  the 
Christians,  and  drew  out  by  force  both  men  and 
women,  loaded  them  with  chains,  and  sent  them  to 
prison.  He  searched  for  them  even  in  the  Syna- 
gogues ;  where  he  caused  them  to  be  beaten  with 
rods,  and  compelled  them  to  blaspheme  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

In  the  midst  of  this  mad  and  destructive  career, 
he  was  arrested  by  a  miraculous  appearance  of  that 
gracious  Being,  whose  religion  he  wished  to  extir- 


THEAPOSTLEPAUL.  87 

pate ;  and  who  addressed  him  in  these  alarming  ex- 
pressions: "I  am  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  whom  thou 
persecutest."  Struck  to  the  ground,  and  humbled 
under  a  deep  sense  of  the  enormity  of  his  conduct, 
he  cried  out,  "  Lord,  what  wouldst  thou  have  me  to 
do?" 

From  this  period,  he  became  sincerely  and  ear- 
nestly devoted  to  the  service  of  his  Divine  Redeem- 
er; who,  in  his  unsearchable  wisdom  and  mercy, 
made  him  an  eminent  instrument  in  establishing  his 
church  among  the  Gentiles.  The  same  zealous  and 
ardent  temper  by  which  he  had  been  distinguished 
when  attached  to  Judaism,  being  now  influenced 
and  directed  by  Divine  grace,  w^as  entirely  con- 
verted to  the  holy  purpose  of  propagating  the  gos- 
pel of  peace  and  salvation. 

In  this  most  benevolent  work,  he  was  indefatiga- 
ble. No  labor  or  fatigue  discouraged  him :  no 
enemies  or  danger  appalled  him.  Having  been 
assured  of  the  mercy  and  forgiveness  of  his  Lord, 
and  animated  by  the  sense  of  his  love,  and  of  the 
unmerited  honor  of  being  employed  in  his  service, 
Paul  devoted  all  his  powers,  and  made  every  sacri- 
fice, to  promote  the  blessed  cause  in  which  he  had 
engaged.  He  thought  that  he  could  never  suffici- 
ently serve  a  Master,  who  had  been  so  gracious  and 
bountiful  to  him. 

The  enmity  of  his  open  and  secret  opposers,  the 
various  distresses  and  afflictions  he  encountered, 
;  erved  only  to  increase  the  ardor  of  his  pious  pur- 


38  THE    APOSTLE    PAUL. 

Buits.  The  strong  faith  with  which  he  was  endued, 
raised  him  above  all  temporal  considerations.  "We 
are  (said  he)  troubled  on  every  side,  yet  not  dis- 
tressed ;  we  are  perplexed,  but  not  in  despair ;  per- 
secuted, but  not  forsaken;  cast  down,  but  not 
destroyed." — "I  am  tilled  with  comfort,  I  am  ex- 
ceedingly joyful  in  all  our  tribulation." 

Supported  by  Divine  Grace  and  future  prospects, 
he  seems  to  have  considered  all  the  labors  and  sor- 
rows of  this  life,  but  as  a  drop  of  the  ocean,  as  a 
grain  of  sand  on  the  seashore,  compared  with  that 
exalted  state  of  happiness  which  awaited  him,  and 
which  would  last  for  ever.  "Our  light  affliction, 
(says  he,)  \\hich  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for 
lis  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory." 

The  life  and  writings  of  this  distinguised  apostle, 
exhibit  numerous  instances  of  his  humility,  self- 
denial,  patience,  resignation,  and  fortitude ;  of  his 
love  to  God,  and  love  to  man.  Ilis  epistles  contain 
a  clear  display  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  and 
an  ample  detail  of  its  precepts.  They  have  been 
read,  with  comfort  and  edification,  by  the  truly 
pious,  in  every  age  of  the  Christian  church. 

The  nature  and  design  of  this  work,  will  not 
allow  us  to  recite  many  of  the  interesting  occur- 
rences in  the  life  of  this  Apostle.  We  have,  how- 
ever, in  addition  to  those  already  mentioned,  se- 
lected the  following,  a^  striking  proofs  of  the  power 
of  religion  on  his  mind. 


TIIEAPOSTLEPAUL.  89 

After  having  long  acted  as  the  Apostle  of  the 
Gentiles,  his  mission  called  him  to  go  to  Jerusalem, 
where  he  knew  that  he  Avas  to  encounter  the  ut- 
most violence  of  his  enemies.  Just  before  he  set 
sail,  he  called  together  the  elders  of  his  favorite 
church  at  Ephesus,  and,  in  a  pathetic  speech,  which 
does  great  honor  to  his  character,  gave  them  his 
last  farewell.  Deeply  affected  by  their  knowledge 
of  the  certain  dangers  to  which  he  was  exposing 
himself,  the  whole  assembly  was  filled  with  distress, 
and  melted  into  tears.  The  circumstances  were 
such  as  might  have  conveyed  dejection,  even  into  a 
resolute  mind  ;  and  would  have  totally  overwhelmed 
the  feeble.  "They  all  wept  sore,  and  fell  on  Paul's 
neck,  and  kissed  him;  sorrowing  most  of  all  for  the 
words  which  he  spoke,  that  they  should  see  his  face 
no  more." 

What  were  then  the  sentiments,  what  was  the 
reply  of  this  faithful  servant  of  God?  His  firm  and 
undaunted  mind  expressed  itself  in  those  words: 
"  Behold,  I  go  bound  in  the  s[)irit,  to  Jerusalem, 
not  knowing  the  things  that  shall  befall  me  there; 
save  that  the  Holy  Spirit  witnesseth  in  every  city, 
saying,  that  bonds  and  afilictions  abide  me.  But 
none  of  these  things  move  me ;  neither  count  I  my 
life  dear  to  myself,  so  that  I  might  finish  my  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  I  have  received 
of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  Gospel  of  the  grace 
of  God." 

Here  we  perceive  the  language,  and  the  spirit,  of 


40  T  II  E     A  P  O  S  T  L  E     P  A  U  L  . 

a  truly  great  and  religious  man.  Such  a  man 
knows  not  what  it  is  to  shrink  from  danger,  when 
conscience  points  out  his  path.  In  that  path  he 
will  resolutely  walk,  let  the  consequences  be  what 
they  may. 

This  was  the  magnanimous  behavior  of  the  Apos- 
tle, when  he  had  persecution  and  distress  full  in 
view.  Let  us  attend  to  his  sentiments,  when  the 
time  of  his  last  sufferings  approached,  and  observe 
the  majesty,  and  the  ease,  with  which  he  looked  on 
death.  "I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the 
time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought  a 
good  fight.  I  have  finished  my  course.  I  have 
kept  the  faiths  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me 
a  crown  of  righteousness," 

How  many  years  of  life  does  such  a  dying  mo- 
ment overbalance  ?  "Who  would  not  choose,  in  this 
manner,  to  go  off  the  stage,  with  such  a  song  of 
triamph  in  his  mouth,  rather  than  prolong  his  exist- 
ence, amidst  cares  and  anxieties,  and  even  amidst 
the  honors  and  enjoyments  of  the  world  ? 


SECTION    VIII. 

I  a  N  A  T  I  u  s . 

Ignatits,  one  of  the  ancient  fathers  of  the  church, 
was  born  in  Syria,  and  brought  up  under  the  care 
of  the  Apostle  John.  About  the  year  67,  he  be- 
came bishop  of  Antioch.  In  this  important  station, 
he  continued  above  forty  years,  both  an  honor  and 
a  safeguard  to  the  Christian  reHgion  ;  undaunted  in 
the  midst  of  very  tempestuous  times,  and  unmoved 
with  the  prospect  of  suffering  a  cruel  death.  He 
taught  men  to  think  little  of  the  present  life  ;  to 
value  and  love  the  good  things  to  come ;  and  never 
to  be  deterred  from  a  course  of  piety  and  virtue, 
by  the  fear  of  any  temporal  evils  whatever  ;  to  op- 
pose only  meekness  to  anger,  humility  to  boasting, 
and  prayers  to  curses  and  reproaches. 

This  excellent  man  was  selected  by  the  emperor 
Trajan,  as  a  subject  whose  sufferings  might  be 
proper  to  inspire  terror  and  discouragement  in  the 
hearts  of  the  Christians  at  Rome.  He  was  con- 
demned to  die  for  his  faith  in  Christ;  and  or- 
dered to  be  thrown  amongst  wild  beasts,  to  be  de- 
voured by  them.  This  cruel  sentence,  far  from 
weakening  his  attachment  to  the  great  cause   he 


42  IGNATIUS. 

liad  espoused,  excited  thankfulness  of  heart,  that 
he  had  been  counted  worthy  to  suffer  for  the  sake 
of  religion.  "  I  thank  thee,  O  Lord,"  said  he, 
"that  thou  hast  condescended  thus  to  honor  me 
with  thy  love ;  and  hast  thought  me  worthy,  with 
thy  apostle  Paul,  to  be  bound  in  chains." 

On  his  passage  to  Rome,  he  wrote  a  letter  to 
his  fellow  Christians  there,  to  prepare  them  to 
acquiesce  in  his  sufferings,  and  to  assist  him  with 
their  prayers.  "  Pray  for  me,"  said  he,  "  that  God 
would  give  me  both  inward  and  outward  strength, 
that  I  may  not  only  say,  but  do  well ;  that  I  may 
not  only  be  called  a  Christian,  but  be  found  one." 

Animated  by  the  cheering  prospect  of  the  re- 
ward of  his  sufferings,  he  said  :  "  ISTow,  indeed,  I 
begin  to  be  a  disciple  ;  I  weigh  neither  visible  nor 
invisible  things,  in  comparison  of  an  interest  in 
Jesus  Christ." — With  the  utmost  Christian  forti- 
tude, he  met  the  wild  beasts  assigned  for  his  de- 
struction, and  triumphed  in  death. 


SECTION    IX. 

P  O  L  Y  C  A  Pw  P . 

PoLYCAEP,  an  eminent  Christian  father,  was  born 
in  the  reiijn  of  Xero.  Iscnatius  recommended  the 
church  at  Antioch  to  the  care  and  superintendence 
of  this  zealous  father ;  who  appears  to  have  been 
unwearied  in  his  endeavors  to  preserve  the  peace 
of  the  church,  and  to  promote  piety  and  virtue 
amongst  men. 

During  the  ^persecution  which  raged  at  Smyrna, 
in  the  year  167,  the  distinguished  character  of  Poly- 
carp  attracted  the  attention  of  the  enemies  of 
Christianity.  The  general  outcry  was,  *'  Let  Poly- 
carp  be  sought  for."  When  he  was  taken  before 
the  proconsul,  he  was  solicited  to  reproach  Christ, 
and  save  his  life:  but,  with  a  holy  indignation, 
he  nobly  replied  :  "  Eighty  and  six  years  have  I 
served  Christ,  who  has  never  done  me  any  injury  : 
how  then  can  I  blaspheme  my  King  and  Sa- 
viour ?" 

When  he  was  brought  to  the  stake,  the  execu- 
tioner offered,  as  usual,  to  nail  him  to  it ;  but  he 
said,  "  Let  me  alone  as  I  am  :  He  who  has  given 
me  strength  to  come  to  the  fire,  will  also  give  me 


44  POLYCARP. 

patience  to  abide  in  it,  without  being  fastened  with 
nails." 

Part  of  his  last  prayer,  at  his  death,  was  as  fol- 
lows :  "  O  God,  the  father  of  thy  beloved  son, 
Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  we  have  received  the  know- 
ledge of  thyself ;  O  God  of  angels  and  powers,  of 
every  creature,  and  of  all  the  just  who  live  in  thy 
presence ;  I  thank  thee,  that  thou  hast  graciously 
vouchsafed,  this  day  and  this  hour,  to  allot  me  a 
portion  amongst  the  number  of  martyrs.  O  Lord, 
receive  me,  and  make  me  a  companion  of  the  saints 
in  the  resurrection,  through  the  merits  of  our  great 
High  Priest,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  praise  and 
adore  thee,  through  thy  beloved  Son,  to  whom, 
with  thee,  and  thy  Holy  Spirit,  be  all  honor  and 
glory,  both  now  and  for  ever.    Amen." 


SECTION    X. 

THE    VENERABLE    BEDE. 

Bede,  surnaraed  the  Ve7ierable,  was  born  about 
the  year  673,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Weremouth, 
in  the  bishopric  of  Durham.  Losing  both  liis  pa- 
rents at  the  age  of  seven  years,  he  was,  by  his  rela- 
tions, placed  in  the  monastery  of  Weremouth.  He 
was  educated  there,  with  much  strictness ;  and  it 
appears,  that  from  his  youth  he  was  devoted  to  the 
service  of  religion.  He  was  ordained  deacon,  in 
the  nineteenth,  and  presbyter,  in  the  thirtieth  year 

of  his  age. 

He  applied  himself  entirely  to  the  study  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  the  instruction  of  disciples,  the 
offices  of  public  worship,  and  the  composition  of 
religious  and  literary  works.  He  wrote  on  all  the 
branches  of  knowledge  then  cultivated  in  Europe. 
In  Greek  and  Hebrew  he  attained  a  skill,  which 
was  very  uncommon  in  that  barbarous  age:  and, 
by  his  instructions  and  example,  he  formed  many 
scholars.  He  made  all  his  attainments  subservient 
to  devotion.  Sensible  that  it  is  by  Divine  Grace, 
rather  than  by  our  natural  powers,  or  by  learning, 
that  the  most  profitable  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 


46  THE    VENERABLE    BEDE. 

tures  is  to  be  acquired,  he  united  with  his  studies 
regular  prayer  to  God,  that  he  would  bless  and 
sanctify  them. 

Perhaps  no  person  of  his  time  acquired  so  distin- 
guished and  widely-extended  a  reputation,  as  Bede ; 
a  reputation  too,  entirely  founded  on  the  worth  of 
his  character,  and  the  extent  of  his  learning.  The 
Roman  Pontiff  respected  him  so  highly,  that  he 
gave  him  a  cordial  invitation  to  the  metropolis  of 
the  church  :  but  this  he  thought  proper  to  decline. 
In  the  eyes  of  Bede  the  great  world  had  no  charms. 

Of  his  numerous  and  important  writings,  the 
greatest  and  most  popular  was,  his  "  English  Ec- 
clesiastical History."  All  the  knowledge  which 
we  have  of  the  early  age  of  Christianity  in  this 
country,  is  derived  from  this  production. —  King 
Alfred  so  highly  esteemed  the  work,  that  he  trans- 
lated it  from  the  original  Latin,  into  the  Saxon  lan- 
guage ;  and,  by  this  means,  increased  its  celebrity. 

The  various  merits  of  Bede  acquire  additional 
lustre,  from  the  general  ignorance  and  corruptions 
of  the  time  in  which  he  lived.  Notwithstanding 
this  disadvantage,  he  appears  to  have  been  a  man 
of  eminent  virtue ;  and  to  have  possessed  the 
happy  association  of  learning  with  modesty,  of  de- 
votion with  liberality,  and  high  reputation  in  the 
church  with  humility  and  moderation. 

In  the  last  sickness  of  this  pious  and  learned 
man,  he  was  afflicted  with  a  difficulty  of  breathing, 
which  continued  about  two  weeks.     His  mind  was, 


TUE     VENERABLE    BEDE.  47 

however,  serene  and  cheerful ;  liis  affections  were 
heavenly ;  and  amidst  all  his  infirmities,  he  con- 
tinued daily  to  instruct  his  disciples.  At  this  pe- 
riod, a  great  part  of  the  night  was  spent  in  prayer 
and  thanksgiving  ;  and  the  first  employment  of  the 
morning  was,  to  ruminate  on  the  Scriptures,  and 
make  suj^plication  to  God. 

Amidst  his  bodily  weakness,  liis  mind  was  still  so 
active,  that  he  employed  himself  in  writing  on  re- 
lil^ious  subjects.  His  translation  of  tlie  gospel  of 
St.  John,  was  not  completed  till  the  day  of  his 
death.  When,  at  last,  he  perceived  that  his  end 
was  drawing  near,  he  met  the  solemn  event  with 
great  composure  and  satisfaction.  "If  my  Maker 
please,  (said  he,)  who  formed  me  out  of  nothing, 
I  am  willing  to  leave  the  world,  and  go  to  him." — 
"My  soul  desn-es  to  see  Christ,  my  king,  in  his 
beauty."  He  then,  with  pious  elevation  of  mind, 
sung,  "  glory  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son,  and  to  the 
Holy  Spirit;"  and  expired  with  such  tranquillity 
and  devotion,  as  greatly  affected  all  who  saw  and 
heard  him. 


SECTION    XI. 

LOUIS   IX.,    KINO    OF    FRANCE. 

Louis  IX.,  styled  St.  Louis,  succeeded  to  the 
crown  of  France,  in  the  year  1226.  This  king  pos- 
sessed great  wisdom,  piety,  and  virtue.  His  repu- 
tation for  candor  and  justice  was  so  great,  that  the 
barons  of  England,  as  well  as  king  Henry  III. 
consented  to  make  him  umpire  of  the  differences 
which  subsisted  between  them.  Fenelon  says  of 
this  patriotic  prince :  "  He  was  distinguished  by 
the  nobleness  of  his  sentiments :  he  was  without 
haughtiness,  presumption,  or  severity.  In  every 
respect,  he  attended  to  the  real  interests  of  his 
country,  of  which  he  was  as  truly  the  father  as  the 
king." 

An  abhorrence  of  sin  was  so  deeply  impressed 
upon  his  mind,  by  a  religious  education,  that  he 
not  only  preserved  it  through  the  course  of  his 
life,  but  was  zealous  to  inculcate  it  upon  others. 
He  was  very  solicitous  that  his  children  should  be 
trained  up  in  the  fear  and  admonition  of  the  Lord  ; 
and  used  to  devote  a  considerable  part  of  his  time 
to  their  religious  instruction.  He  often  related  to 
them  the  punishments  which  the  pride,  the  avarice, 


LOUIS     IX.,     KING     OF     FRANCE.  49 

and  the  debaiicheiy  of  princes,  brouglit  upon  tliein- 
selves  and  their  people. 

In  his  last  sickness,  he  earnestly  exhorted  Philip, 
his  son  and  successor,  firmly  to  adhere  to  religion, 
in  his  own  private  life  and  conduct,  and  zealously 
to  promote  it  among  his  subjects.  lie  also  strongly 
recommended  to  him  justice,  moderation,  and  all 
the  virtues  becoming  a  sovereign  and  a  Christian. 
He  strictly  enjoined  him  never  to  suffer  any  one,  in 
his  presence,  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  the  Al- 
mighty, or  of  those  devoted  to  his  service ;  or  to 
utter  a  word,  tending,  ir  the  smallest  degree,  to 
countenance  a  crime.  "  God,"  said  he,  "  grant  you 
grace,  my  son,  to  do  his  will  continually ;  so  that 
he  may  be  glorified  by  your  means,  and  that  we 
may  be  with  him  after  this  life,  and  praise  him 
eternally." 

His  dying  advice  to  his  daughter  Isabella,  queen 
of  ^Navarre,  was  also  very  expressive  of  his  zeal  for 
the  cause  of  religion,  and  his  solicitude  for  the 
welfare  of  his  children.  He  wrote  to  her  as  fol- 
lows:  "My  dear  daughter,  I  conjure  you  to  love 
our  Lord  with  all  your  might ;  for  this  is  the  foun- 
dation of  all  goodness.  No  one  is  so  worthy  to  be 
loved.  Well  may  we  say :  '  Lord,  thou  art  our 
God,  and  our  goods  are  nothing  to  thee.'  It  was 
the  Lord  who  sent  his  Son  upon  earth,  and  deUv- 
cred  him  over  to  death  for  our  salvation.  If  yon 
love  him,  my  daughter,  the  advantage  will  be 
yours;  and  be  assured  that  you  can  never  love  and 
3 


60  LOUIS     IX.,     KING     OF    FRANCE. 

serve  him  too  much.  He  has  well  deserved  that 
we  should  love  him ;  for  he  first  loved  us.  I  wish 
you  could  comprehend  what  the  Son  of  God  has 
done  for  our  redemption. 

"  My  daughter,  be  very  desirous  to  know  how 
you  may  best  please  the  Lord  ;  and  bestow  all  your 
care  to  avoid  every  thing  that  may  displease  him. 
But  particularly,  never  be  guilty  of  any  deliberate 
sin,  though  it  were  to  save  your  life.  Take  plea- 
sure in  hearing  God  reverently  spoken  of,  both  in 
sermons  and  in  private  conversation.  Shun  too 
familiar  discourse,  except  with  very  virtuous  per- 
sons. Obey,  my  daughter,  your  husband,  your 
father,  and  your  mother,  in  the  Lord  :  you  are 
bound  to  do  so,  both  for  their  sakes,  and  for  the 
sake  of  him  who  has  commanded  it.  In  what  is 
contrary  to  the  glory  of  God,  you  owe  obedience 
to  none. 

"  Endeavor,  my  daughter,  to  be  an  example  of 
goodness  to  all  who  may  see  you,  and  to  all  who 
may  hear  of  you.  Be  not  too  nice  about  dress :  if 
you  have  too  many  clothes,  give  them  away  in 
charity.  Be  ware,  also  of  having  an  excessive  care 
of  your  furniture.  Aspire  after  a  disposition  to  do 
the  will  of  God,  purely  for  his  sake,  independently 
of  the  hope  of  reward,  or  the  fear  of  punishment." 

Thus  did  this  prince  teach  his  children ;  and  thus 
did  he  live  himself.  He  died  in  great  tranquillity, 
in  the  year  1270. 


SECTION    XII. 
POPE    KUaENIUS. 

Gabriel  Condelmerius  was  raised  to  the  Papal 
throne  in  the  year  1431  ;  and  took  the  name  of 
Eugenius  IV.  From  a  low  condition  of  hfe,  and 
through  various  gradations  of  office,  he  ascended  to 
this  dignity.  Being  much  averse  to  a  reformation 
of  doctrine  and  manners,  he  met  with  great  oppo- 
sition from  some  of  the  clergy ;  but  being  of  a  de- 
termined spirit,  he  encountered  every  danger,  rather 
than  yield  to  bis  opponents.  He  was  often  reduced 
to  painful  and  mortifying  situations,  and  expe- 
rienced so  many  vicissitudes  of  life,  that  he  had 
ample  proof  of  the  vanity  and  instabiUty  of  human 
greatness. 

The  reflection  he  is  said  to  have  made  on  his 
death-bed,  is  remarkable ;  and  shows  that,  in  his 
greatest  elevation,  he  did  not  find  that  peace  and 
true  enjoyment  of  mind,  wliicli  he  had  possessed 
in  an  humble  and  retired  situation.  Being  attended 
by  a  company  of  monks,  he  turned  his  face  towards 
them,  and  said,  with  a  voice,  interrupted  by  sighs : 
"  Oh    Gabriel !    how  much  better   would    it    have 


52  POPE     EUGENIUS, 

been  for  tliee,  and  how  much  more  would  it  have 
promoted  thy  soul's  welfare,  if  thou  hadst  never 
been  raised  to  the  pontificate ;  but  been  content 
to  lead  a  quiet  and  religious  life  in  thy  monas- 
tery !" 


SECTION    XIII. 
CARDINAL    BEAUFORT. 

Cardinal  Beaufort  was  of  royal  extraction, 
the  son  of  John  of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancaster ;  and 
was  commonly  called  the  rich  cardinal  of  Win- 
chester. It  is  generally  believed  that  he  concerted 
the  death  of  Humphrey,  duke  of  Gloucester,  which 
was  attributed  to  poison.  History  informs  us  that 
he  prevailed  with  the  king  to  grant  him  letters  of 
pardon  for  all  offences  contrary  to  the  statutes 
then  enacted  in  England. 

The  wise  son  of  Sirach  exclaims,  "  O  Death,  how 
bitter  is  the  remembrance  of  thee,  to  a  man  who 
is  at  ease  in  his  possessions !"  Of  the  truth  of  this 
sentiment,  we  have  a  remarkable  proof,  in  the  last 
moments  of  this  ambitious  cardinal.  When  he 
was  arrested  in  the  midst  of  his  career,  and  the 
terrors  of  death  were  marshalled  in  horrid  array 
before  him,  he  thus  complained,  and  vented  his 
afflicted  soul  to  his  weeping  friends  around  him : 
"  And  must  I  then  die  ?  Will  not  all  my  riches 
save  me  ?  I  could  purchase  the  kingdom,  if  that 
would  prolong  my  life.  Alas !  there  is  no  bribing 
death.     When   my  nephew,  the   duke  of  Bedford 


54  CARDINAL     BEAUFORT. 

died,  I  thought  my  happiness,  and  my  authority 
greatly  increased ;  but  the  duke  of  Gloucester's 
death  raised  me  in  fancy  to  a  level  with  kings ;  and 
I  thought  of  nothing  but  accumulating  still  greater 
wealth,  to  enable  me,  at  length,  to  purchase  the 
triple  crown.  Alas!  how  are  my  hopes  disap^ 
pointed !  Wherefore,  oh,  my  friends  !  •  let  me 
earnestly  beseech  you  to  pray  for  me,  and  recom- 
mend my  departing  soul  to  God."  Thus  died  this 
unhappy  cardinal,  in  the  year  1447. 


SECTION    XIV. 
CAESAR     BORGIA. 

C^SAR  Borgia,  a  natural  son  of  Pope  Alexan- 
der VL,  wab^  a  man  of  such  conduct  and  character, 
that  Machiavel  has  thought  fit  to  propose  him,  in 
his  famous  book  caUed  "The  Prmce,"  as  an  original 
and  pattern  to  all  princes,  who  would  act  the  part 
of  wise  and  politic  tyrants.  He  was  made  a  car- 
dinal ;  but  as  this  office  imposed  some  restramts 
upon  him,  he  soon  determined  to  resign  it,  that  he 
might  have  the  greater  scope  for  practising  the 
excesses  to  which  his  natural  ambition  and  cruelty 
prompted  him;  for  cruel,  as  well  as  ambitious,  he 
was  in  the  highest  degree. 

After  this,  he  was  made  duke  of  Valentinois,  by 
Louis  XII.  of  France.  He  experienced  a  variety 
of  fortune  ;  but  displayed,  on  every  occasion,  the 
most  consummate  dexterity  and  finesse,  and  seemed 
prepared  for  all  events.  The  reflections  he  made  a 
short  time  before  his  death,  (which  happened  m 
the  year  1507,)  show,  however,  that  his  policy  was 
confined  to  the  concerns  of  this  life  ;  and  that  he 
had  not  acted  upon  that  wise  and  enlarged  view 


66  C^SARBOKGIA. 

of  things,  which  becomes  a  being  destined  for  im- 
mortality. "I  had  provided,"  said  he,  "in  the 
course  of  my  Hfe,  for  every  thing,  except  death ; 
and  now,  alas !  I  am  to  die,  although  entirely  un- 
prepared." 


CHAPTER    II. 

Cardinal  TVolsey — Sir  John  Mason — Emperor  Charles  Y. 
— Sir  Thomas  Smith — ^Bernard  Gilpin — Jane,  Queen  op 
Navarre— Sir  Francis  Walsingham — Lady  Jane  Grey 
— Sir  Walter  Raleigh — Richard  Hooker. 


SECTIOX    I. 
CARDINAL    WOLSEY. 

THo:y:AS  Wolset,  a  distinguished  j^erson  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  YIII.,  was  born  in  the  year  1471; 
and  it  is  said  he  was  the  son  of  a  butcher  at  Ips- 
wich. Being  made  chaplain  to  the  king,  he  had 
great  opportunities  of  gaining  his  favor ;  to  obtain 
which  he  practised  all  the  arts  of  obsequiousness. 
Having  gradually  acquired  an  entire  ascendency 
over  the  mind  of  Henry,  he  successively  obtained 
several  bishoprics ;  and,  at  length,  was  made  arch- 
bishop of  York,  lord  high  chancellor  of  England, 
and  prime  minister ;  and  was,  for  several  years,  the 
arbiter  of  Europe. 

Tlie  emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  and  the  French 
king  Francis  the  First,  courted  his  interest,  and 
loaded  him  with  favors.  As  his  revenues  were  im- 
3* 


58  CARDINAL     WOLSEY. 

mense,  and  liis  influence  unbounded,  his  jjiide  and 
ostentation  were  carried  to  the  greatest  height. 
He  had  eight  hundred  servants;  amongst  whom 
were  nine  or  ten  lords,  fifteen  knights,  and  forty 
esquires. 

From  this  great  height  of  power  and  splendor, 
he  was  suddenly  precipitated  into  ruin.  His  am- 
bition to  be  pope,  his  pride,  his  exactions,  and  his 
opposition  to  Henry's  divorce,  occasioned  his  dis- 
grace. This  sad  reverse  so  aifected  his  mind  as  to 
bring  on  a  severe  illness,  which  soon  put  a  period 
to  his  days. 

A  short  time  before  he  left  the  world,  the  review 
of  his  life,  and  a  consciousness  of  the  misapplica- 
tion of  his  time  and  talents,  drew  from  him  this 
sorrowful  declaration :  "  Had  I  but  served  God  as 
diligently  as  I  have  served  the  king,  he  would  not 
have  given  me  over  in  my  grey  hairs.  But  this  i^ 
the  just  reward  that  I  must  receive  for  my  inces- 
sant pains  and  study,  not  regarding  my  service  to 
God,  but  only  to  my  prince." 

With  these  painful  reflections  this  famous  car- 
dinal finished  his  course.  He  afibrds  a  memorable 
instance  of  the  vanity  and  inconstancy  of  human 
things,  both  in  his  rise  and  fall;  and  a  striking 
admonition  to  those  who  are  abusing  the  talents 
and  opportunities,  which  God  has  given  them  to 
promote  his  honor  and  the  happiness  of  men. 


SECTION    II. 

SIK    JOHN    MASON. 

A  STRONG  testimony  to  tlie  importance  of  re- 
ligion, is  given  by  Sir  John  Mason,  avIio,  though 
but  63  years  old  at  his  cleatli,  had  flourished  in 
the  reign  of  four  Bovereigns,  (Henry  YIII.,  Ed- 
ward YI.,  Mary,  and  Elizabeth,)  had  been  privy- 
counsellor  to  them  all,  and  an  attentive  observer 
of  the  various  revolutions  and  vicissitudes  of  those 
times. 

Towards  his  latter  end,  being  on  his  death-bed, 
he  spoke  thus  to  those  about  him :  "  I  have  lived  to 
see  five  sovereigns,  and  have  been  privy-counsellor 
to  four  of  them.  I  have  seen  the  most  remarkable 
thino-s  in  foreign  parts,  and  have  been  present  at 
most  state  transactions  for  the  last  thirty  years: 
and  I  have  learned,  from  the  experience  of  so  many 
years,  that  seriousness  is  the  greatest  wisdom,  tem- 
perance the  best  physic,  and  a  good  conscience  the 
best  estate.  And  were  I  to  live  again,  I  would 
change  the  court  for  a  cloister,  my  privy-counsel- 
lor's bustle  for  a  hermit's  retirement,  and  the  whole 
life  I  have  lived  in  the  palace,  for  an  hour's  en- 
joyment of  God  in  the  chapel.     All  things  now 


60  SIRJOHN    MASON. 

forsake  me,   except   my  God,   my  duty,   and  my 
prayers." 

The  chief  field,  both  of  the  duty  and  of  the  im- 
provement of  man,  lies  in  active  life.  By  the 
graces  and  virtues  which  he  exercises  amidst  his 
fellow-creatures,  he  is  trained  up  for  heaven.  And 
gince  Divine  Providence  has  established  govern- 
ment and  subordination  amongst  men,  it  follows, 
that  high  offices  and  stations  of  dignity,  are  com- 
patible with  true  religion.  It  is,  however,  possible, 
that  the  minds  of  persons  in  authority,  may  be  so 
much  engaged  with  temporal  concerns,  as  to  leave 
little  or  no  place  for  the  higher  duties  of  piety  and 
devotion  ;  duties  which  purify  and  exalt  our  nature, 
and  give  a  proper  direction  and  limitation  to  all  our 
labors  for  the  good  of  othei'S. 

From  the  regret  expressed  by  Sir  John  Mason, 
it  appears  that  his  error  consisted,  not  in  having 
served  his  king  and  country,  in  the  eminent  sta- 
tions in  which  he  had  been  placed ;  but  in  having 
suffTered  his  mind  to  be  so  much  occupied  with 
business,  as  to  make  him  neglect,  in  some  degree, 
the  proper  seasons  of  religious  retirement,  and  the 
prime  duties  which  he  owed  to  his  Creator, 


SECTION    III. 

CHARLES    V.    EMPEROR    OF 
OERM  AN  Y. 

Charles  V.  emperor  of  Germany,  king  of  S2)am, 
and  lord  of  the  Ketherlands,  was  born  at  Ghent,  in 
the  year  1500. 

He  is  said  to  have  fought  sixty  battles,  in  most 
of  which  he  was  victorious ;  to  have  obtained  six 
triumphs,  conquered  four  kingdoms,  and  to  have 
added  eight  principalities  to  his  dominions:  an 
almost  unparalleled  instance  of  worldly  prosperity^ 
and  the  greatness  of  human  glory. 

But  all  these  fruits  of  his  ambition,  and  all  the 
honors  that  attended  him,  could  not  yield  true  and 
solid  satisfaction.  Reflecting  on  the  evils  and  mis- 
eries which  lie  had  occasioned,  and  convhiced  oi 
the  emptiness  of  earthly  magnificence,  he  became 
disgusted  with  all  the  splendor  that  surrounded 
him;  and  thought  it  his  duty  to  withdraw  from 
it,  and  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  in  religion;^ 
retirement. 

Accordingly,  he  voluntarily  resigned  all  his  do- 
minions to  his  brother  and  son;  and  after  taking 
an  affectionate  and  last  farewell  of  tlie  latter,  and 


62  CHAKLES    Y.    EMPEEOK    OF   GERMANY. 

of  a  numerous  retinue  of  princes  and  nobility  that 
respectfully  attended  him,  he  repaired  to  his  chosen 
retreat.  It  was  situated  in  Spain,  in  a  vale  of  no 
great  extent,  watered  by  a  small  brook,  and  sur- 
rounded with  rising  grounds  covered  with  lofty  trees. 

A  deej)  sense  of  his  frail  condition  and  great  im- 
perfections, appears  to  have  impressed  his  mind,  in 
this  extraordinary  resolution,  and  through  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life.  As  soon  as  he  landed  in  Spain, 
he  fell  prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  considering 
himself  now  as  dead  to  the  world,  he  kissed  the 
earth,  and  said;  *' Naked  came  I  out  of  my 
mother's  womb,  and  naked  I  now  return  to  thee, 
thou  common  mother  of  mankind!'* 

In  this  hinnble  retreat  he  spent  his  time  in  re- 
ligious exercises,  and  innocent  employments;  and 
buried  here,  in  solitude  and  silence,  his  grandeur, 
his  ambition,  together  with  all  those  vast  projects, 
which,  for  near  half  a  century,  had  alarmed  and 
agitated  Europe,  and  filled  every  kingdom  in  it,  by 
turns,  with  the  terror  of  his  arras,  and  the  dread  of 
being  subjected  to  his  power.  Far  from  taking 
any  j^art  in  the  political  transactions  of  the  world, 
he  restrained  his  cuiiosity  even  from  any  inquiry 
concerning  them ;  and  seemed  to  view  the  busy 
scene  he  had  abandoned,  with  an  elevation  and  in- 
difference of  mind,  which  arose  from  his  thorough 
experience  of  its  vanity,  as  well  as  from  the  pleasing 
reflection  of  having  disengaged  himself  from  its 
cares  and  temptations.. 


EMPEROR     OF     GERMANY.  63 

Here  he  enjoyed  more  solid  happiness,  th.aii  all 
his  grandeur  had  ever  yielded  him :  as  a  full  proof 
of  which  he  has  left  this  short,  but  comprehensive 
testimony :  "  I  have  tasted  more  satisfaction  in  my 
solitude,  in  one  day,  than  in  all  the  triumphs  of  my 
former  reign.  Tlie  sincere  study,  profession,  and 
practice,  of  the  Christian  religion,  have  in  them 
such  joys  and  sweetness  as  are  seldom  found  in 
courts  and  grandeur." 


SECTION    IV. 
SIR    THOMAS    SMITH. 

Sm  Thomas  Smith  was  born  in  the  year  1514, 
and  received  a  liberal  and  polished  education.  In 
1542,  he  was  made  king's  professor  of  civil  law  in 
the  university  of  Cambridge,  and  chancellor  of  the 
diocess  of  Ely.  lie  was  several  times  employed  by 
Queen  Elizabeth  as  her  ambassador  to  the  court  of 
France ;  and  executed  the  high  office  of  secretary 
of  state  to  that  princess.  His  abilities  were  excel- 
lent, and  his  attainments  uncommonly  great.  He 
was  a  philosopher,  a  physician,  a  chemist,  a  mathe- 
matician, a  linguist,  a  historian,  and  an  architect. 

This  distinguished  person,  a  short  time  before  his 
decease,  was  much  affected  by  the  prospect  of  his 
dissolution,  and  of  a  future  state.  He  sent  to  his 
friends,  the  bishops  of  Winchester  and  Worcester, 
and  entreated  them  to  state  to  him,  from  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  the  plainest  and  surest  way  of  making 
his  peace  with  God  :  adding,  "  It  is  lamentable,  that 
men  consider  not  for  what  end  they  are  born  into 
the  world,  till  they  are  ready  to  go  out  of  it." 

It  is  truly  a  sorrowful  reflection,  that  the  pursuits 
of  this  life,  and  the  love  of  the  world,  are  often  so 


S  I  E     T  II  O  M  A  S     S  St  I  T  II  .  65 

much  indulged,  as  to  captivate  the  mind,  and 
charm  it  into  a  state  of  insensibiUty  to  the  great 
end  of  its  existence.  How  much  wiser  and  happier 
should  we  be,  if  we  engaged  in  temporal  concerns 
with  moderation  and  restraint,  the  true  way  to  ex- 
tract all  their  good,  and  considered  ourselves  as 
strangers  and  piigriras  travelling  towards  a  better 
country ;  instead  of  being  occupied,  under  contin- 
ual anxiety  and  frequent  disappointments,  in  the 
delusive  chase  of  interest  and  pleasure,  till  the  scene 
is  nearly  closed,  and  the  mind  left  to  the  anguish  of 
a  melancholy  retrospect ! 

The  flood  of  time  is  fast  approaching :  it  will  soon 
pass  over  us,  and  bury  in  silence  and  obUvion,  all 
our  busy,  fascinating  schemes  and  engagements; 
and  leave  nothing  to  survive  the  Avreck,  but  virtue 
and  goodness,  and  the  consciousness  of  Divine 
favor.  What  urgent  motives  for  correcting  our 
terrestrial  aims  and  labors,  and  for  striving  to  be- 
come heirs  of  that  kingdom,  whose  honors  and  en- 
joyments are  perfect,  and  will  last  for  ever ! 


SECTION    V. 
BERNAKD    aiLPIN. 

Beenaed  Gilpin,  a  man  of  exalted  virtue,  and 
distinguished  among  his  contemporaries  by  the  title 
of  The  Apostle  of  the  Norths  was  born  in  the  year 
1517,  and  descended  from  a  respectable  family  in 
Westmoreland. 

As  he  early  discovered  much  seriousness  of  dis- 
position, and  an  inclination  to  a  contemplative  life, 
his  parents  determined  to  educate  him  to  the 
church  ;  and  accordingly  placed  him  in  a  grammar 
school,  where  he  passed  through  the  different 
classes  with  great  approbation.  When  he  was  six- 
teen years  of  age,  he  was  sent  to  the  university  of 
Oxford,  and  entered  a  scholar  on  the  foundation  of 
Queen's  college.  In  this  situation,  he  soon  became 
distinguished  for  the  diligence  with  which  he  ap- 
plied to  his  academical  studies ;  and  for  his  jDro- 
ficiency  in  that  knowledge,  which  the  defective 
systems  of  education  then  existing  afforded. 

Of  his  great  progress  in  the  study  of  divinity, 
and  of  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  languages,  his  exer- 
cises and  disputations  in  the  public  schools  gave 
very  satisfactory  evidence,  and  recommended  him 


BERNARD     GILPIN.  67 

to  much  notice  in  the  university ;  where  he  was,  at 
the  same  time,  admired  and  loved  for  the  sweetness 
of  his  disposition,  and  the  simplicity  and  gentleness 
of  his  manners. 

His  attachment  to  the  Koman  Catholic  religion, 
in  which  he  had  been  educated,  was,  for  some  time, 
strong  and  decided.  But,  an  honest  and  ardent 
desire  to  discover  truth ;  an  unprejudiced  study  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures  ;  and  frequent  conferences  with 
pious  and  learned  men;  produced,  at  length,  a 
thorough  persuasion  of  the  truth  of  the  Protestant 
reformed  religion.  This  cause  he  steadily  and 
zealously  supported,  through  the  whole  remaining 
course  of  his  life. 

The  chief  place  of  Gilpin's  active  and  virtuous 
exertions,  was  in  the  county  of  Durham.  After 
having  resigned  several  benefices,  which  the  oppo- 
sition of  his  enemies,  and  other  circumstances, 
would  not  permit  him  to  occupy  with  satisfaction, 
he  accej^ted  the  rectory  of  Houghton-le-spring. 
This  living  was  of  considerable  value;  but  the  duty 
of  it  was  proportionably  laborious.  It  was  so  ex- 
tensive, that  it  contained  not  fewer  than  fourteen 
villages.  It  had  been  much  neglected ;  and  in  it 
there  scarcely  remained  any  traces  of  true  Chris- 
tianity. 

Gilpin  was  grieved  to  see  the  ignorance  and  vice, 
which  so  greatly  prevailed  in  the  places  under  his 
care.  But  he  did  not  despair  of  bringing  into 
order  a  waste  so  miserably  uncultivated :  and,  by 


68  BERNARD    GILPIN. 

resolution,  diligence,  prudence,  and  perseverance, 
he  finally  succeeded  in  producing  an  astonishing 
change,  not  only  in  the  character  and  manners  of 
his  own  parishioners,  but  of  the  savage  inhabitants 
in  other  northern  districts.  On  his  arrival  among 
them,  the  people  crowded  about  him,  and  listened 
to  his  discourses  with  great  attention,  perceiving 
him  to  be  a  teacher  of  a  very  different  kind  from 
those  to  whom  they  had  hitherto  been  accustomed ; 
and  by  his  truly  pastoral  and  afiectionate  treatment 
of  them,  he  quickly  gained  their  confidence,  respect, 
and  attachment. 

Gilpin  had  not  been  long  settled  at  Houghton, 
before  Bishoj^  Tonstal  was  desirous  of  still  farther 
improving  his  fortune,  by  presenting  him  to  a 
vacant  prebend  in  the  cathedral  of  Durham.  But, 
resolving  not  to  accept  it,  he  told  the  bishop  that, 
"  by  his  bounty,  he  had  already  more  wealth  than, 
he  was  afraid,  he  could  give  a  good  account  of. 
He  begged,  therefore,  that  he  might  not  have  an 
additional  charge ;  but  rather  that  his  lordship 
would  bestow  this  preferment  on  one  by  whom  it 
was  more  wanted." 

In  these  perilous  times,  (the  reign  of  the  san- 
guinary Queen  Mary,)  his  steady,  though  mild  and 
temperate,  adherence  to  the  reformed  religion,  in- 
volved him  in  many  dangers  and  difiiculties;  from 
which  he  was  often  happily  extricated,  under  Di- 
vine Providence,  by  the  favor  of  Bishop  Tonstal, 
and  by  his  own  judicious  conduct.     The  malice  of 


BERNARD     GILPIN.  69 

his    enemies   was   probably    increased   by   liis   un- 
affected piety,  and  exemplary  lite ;  which  formed  a 
striking  satire  on  their  negligence  and  irregularities. 
They  determined,  therefore,  to  remove,  if  possible, 
so  disagreeable  a  contrast,  and  so  able  a  reformer. 
After  many    unsuccessful    attempts   to    disgrace 
and  destroy  him,  their  hatred  so  far  prevailed,  that 
they  procured  an  order  from    the   merciless  Bon- 
ner, bishop  of  London,  to  have  him  arrested  and 
brought  to  that  city ;  where,  the  bishop  declared, 
lie  should  be  at  the  stake  in  a  fortnight.     Gilpin 
was  speedily  apprised  by  his  friends  of  the  mea- 
sures determined   against  him;   and   earnestly  en- 
treated to  provide  for  his  safety,  by  withdrawing 
from   the   kingdom.     But   their   persuasions   were 
ineffectual ;  for  having  been  long  preparing  him- 
self to  suffer  for  thg  truth,  he  now  determined  not 
to  decline  it.     He  therefore,  with  great  composure, 
waited  for  the  arrival  of  the  bishop's  messengers, 
after  having  ordered  his  servant  to  provide  a  long 
garment  ibr  him,  in  which  he  might  go  decently  to 
the  stake. 

In  a  few  days  he  was  a})prchcnded ;  but  before 
he  reached  London,  an  account  of  Queen  Mary's 
death  was  received  ;  by  which  event  he  was  de- 
livered from  any  farther  prosecution.  Thus  provi- 
dentially rescued  from  his  enemies,  he  returned  to 
Houghton  through  crowds  of  people,  who  ex- 
pressed the  utmost  joy,  and  rendered  thakns  to 
God  for  his  deliverance. 


70  BEKNARD     GILPIN. 

On  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  he  was  offered 
the  bishopric  of  CarUsle,  but  this  he  modestly  and 
firmly  declined  to  accept.  Not  long  afterward, 
the  provostship  of  Queen's  college,  Oxford,  was 
tendered  to  him.  This  honor  and  emolument  he 
likewise  declined.  He  believed  that  he  could  be 
moi>e  useful,  in  his  present  charge  at  Houghton, 
than  elsewhere  :  and  this  was  a  consideration  su- 
jjerior  to  every  other,  in  the  mind  of  the  pious  and 
benevolent  Gilpin. 

Eminent  as  his  labors  and  generosity  were,  he 
was  still  unsatisfied  with  the  services  he  had  ren- 
dered to  his  fellow-creatures ;  and  therefore,  to  the 
surprise  of  his  friends,  he  undertook  to  build  and 
endow  a  grammar  school ;  a  design  which  his  great 
management  and  frugality  enabled  him  to  accom- 
plish. The  school  began  to  flourish  as  soon  as  it  was 
opened  ;  and  there  was  so  great  a  resort  of  young 
people  to  it,  that  in  a  little  time  the  town  was  not 
able  to  accommodate  them.  Gilpin  therefore  fitted 
up  a  part  of  his  own  house  for  tliat  purpose  where 
he  boarded  twenty  or  thirty  children  ;  and  bestowed 
clothing  and  maintenance  on  the  greater  part  of 
them,  whose  j^arents  were  in  poor  circumstances. 

Gilpin's  hospitable  manner  of  living  was  the  ad- 
miration of  the  whole  country.  Strangers  and  tra- 
vellers found  a  cheerful  reception  at  his  board.  He 
was  also  pleased  with  the  company  of  men  of 
worth  and  letters,  who  used  much  to  frequent  his 
house.     "When  Lord  Burleigh,  then  lord-treasurer. 


BERNAED     GILPIN.  11 

was  Bent  by  Queen  Elizabeth  to  transact  some  af- 
fairs in  Scotland,  he  could  not  resist  the  desire 
which  he  felt,  on  his  return,  to  see  a  man  whose 
Dame  he  found  everywhere  mentioned  with  the 
highest  respect.  He  had  not  time  to  give  any 
notice  of  his  intended  visit ;  but  the  economy  of 
so  plentiful  a  house  was  not  easily  disconcerjed. 
Gilpin  received  his  noble  guest  with  so  much  true 
politeness;  and  treated  him  and  his  whole  retinue 
in  so  affluent  and  generous  a  manner,  that  the 
treasurer  often  afterwards  said,  "he  could  hardly 
have  expected  more  at  Lambeth." 

While  Lord  Burleigh .  stayed  at  Houghton,  he 
took  great  pains  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  or- 
der and  regularity  with  which  every  thing  in  that 
house  was  managed ;  and  he  was  not  a  little  pleased 
with  tlie  result  of  his  enquiries.  There  too  he  saw 
true  simplicity  of  manners ;  and  every  social  virtue 
regulated  by  exact  prudence.  The  statesman  be- 
gan to  unbend  ;  and  he  could  scarcely  avc^id  com- 
paring, with  a  kind  of  envious  eye,  the  unquiet 
scenes  of  vice  and  vanity  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
with  the  calmness  of  this  interesting  retreat. 

At  length,  with  reluctance,  he  took  his  leave, 
embracing  the  worthy  rector  with  all  the  warmth 
of  affection,  and  the  strongest  assurances  of  Ins 
readiness  to  render  liim  any  services  at  court,  or 
elsewhere.  When  he  had  mounted  a'hill  about  a 
mile  from  Houghton,  and  which  commtinds  the 
vale,  he  turned  his  horse  to  take  ^one  more  view 


72  BERNABD     GILPIN. 


of  the  place ;  and  having  kept  his  eye  fixed  upon 
it  for  some  time,  he  broke  out  into  these  exclama- 
tions: "There  is  the  enjoyment  of  life  indeed! 
Who  can  blame  that  man  for  not  accepting  a  bish- 
opric; ?  What  does  he  want  to  make  him  greater, 
or  happier,  or  more  useful  to  mankind  ?" 

After  the  lapse  of  many  years  Bpent  in  the  cheer- 
ful, but  laborious  discharge  of  duty,  this  pious  man 
perceived,  from  his  many  infirmities,  that  his  end 
was  drawing  near.  He  told  his  friends  his  appre- 
hensions ;  and  spoke  of  his  death  with  that  hajDpy 
composure  which  usually  attends  the  conclusion  of 
a  good  life.  He  was  soon  after  confined  to  his 
chamber.  His  understanding  continued  perfect  to 
the  last.  Of  the  manner  of  his  taking  leave  of  the 
world,  we  have  the  following  account : 

A  few  days  before  his  death,  having  ordered 
himself  to  be  raised  in  his  bed,  he  sent  for  the 
poor ;  and  beckoning  them  to  his  bed-side,  he  told 
them  he  perceived  that  he  was  going  out  of  the 
world.  He  trusted  they  would  be  his  witnesses  at 
the  great  day,  that  he  had  endeavored  to  do  his 
duty  among  them  ;  and  he  prayed  God  to  remem- 
ber them  after  he  was  gone.  He  would  not  have 
them  weep  for  him.  If  ever  he  had  told  them  any 
thing  good,  he  would  have  them  remember  that  in 
his  stead.  Above  all  things,  he  exhorted  them  to 
fear  God,  and  keep  his  commandments ;  teUing 
them,  if  they  would  do  this,  they  could  never  be 
left  comfortless. 


BERNARD      GILPIN.  "73 

He  next  ordered  his  scholars  to  be  called  in.  To 
these,  likewise,  he  made  a  short  speech,  reminding 
them,  that  this  was  their  time,  if  they  had  any 
desire  to  qualify  themselves  for  being  of  use  in  the 
world  :  that  learning  was  well  worth  their  atten- 
tion,  but  that  virtue  was  of  much  greater  impor- 
tance to  them. 

He  next  exhorted  his  servants  :  and  then  sent  for 
several  persons  who  had  not  profited  by  his  advice, 
according  to  his  wishes,  and  upon  whom  he  ima- 
gined his  dying  words  might  have  a  better  effect. 
His  speech  began  to  falter  before  he  had  finished 
his  exhortations.  The  remaining  hours  of  his  life 
he  spent  in  prayer,  and  in  broken  conversations 
with  some  select  friends.  He  often  mentioned  the 
consolations  of  Christianity;  declared  that  they 
were  the  only  true  ones;  and  that  nothing  else 
could  bring  a  man  peace  at  the  last.  He  died  in 
1583,  in  the  sixty-sixth  year  of  his  age. 

In  the  preceding  sketch  of  the  life  of  this  emi- 
nent Christian,  and  in  the  account  of  his  death,  we 
perceive  the  animating  power  of  religion  on  his 
mind.  The  following  faithful  summary  of  his  char- 
acter, marks  very  conspicuously  the  happy  influ- 
ence of  the  same  Divine  principle;  and  exhibits 
to  every  reader  a  most  instructive  lesson. 

The  natural  disposition  of  this  worthy  man  was 

of  a  serious  cast:  yet  among  his  particular  friends 

he  w^as  uncommonly  cheerful,  sometimes  facetious. 

His  general  behavior  was  very  affable.    His  severity 

4 


74  BEUNAED      GILPIN. 

had  no  object  but  himself:  to  others  he  was  gentle, 
candid,  and  indulgent.  ISTever  did  virtue  sit  with 
greater  ease  on  any  one ;  had  less  moroseness ; 
or  could  mix  more  agreeably  with  whatever  was 
innocent  in  common  life. 

He  had  a  most  extraordinary  skill  in  the  art  of 
managing  a  fortune.  He  considered  himself  barely 
as  a  steward  for  other  people :  and  took  care, 
therefore,  that  his  own  desires  never  exceeded 
what  calm  reason  could  justify.  Extravagance 
was,  with  him,  another  word  for  injustice.  Amidst 
all  his  business,  he  found  leisure  to  look  into  his 
affairs ;  well  knowing  that  frugality  is  the  support 
of  charity. 

He  was  the  most  candid  interpreter  of  the  words 
and  actions  of  others  :  where  he  plainly  saw  fail- 
ings, he  would  make  every  possible  allowance  for 
them.  He  used  to  express  a  particular  indignation 
at  slander;  often  saying,  "Slander,  more  than 
theft,  deserves  the  gallows."  He  was  remarkably 
guarded  when  he  spoke  of  others :  he  considered 
common  fame  as  a  false  medium,  and  a  man's  repu- 
tation as  his  most  valuable  property. 

His  sincerity  was  such  as  became  his  other  vir- 
tues. He  had  the  strictest  regard  to  truth,  of 
which  his  whole  life  was  one  consistent  example. 
All  little  arts  and  sinister  practices,  those  ingre- 
dients of  worldly  prudence,  he  disdained.  His  per- 
severance in  so  commendable  a  practice,  in  what- 
ever difficulties  it  might  at  first  involve  him,  raised 


BERNARD      GILPIN.  75 

his  character,  in  the  issue,  above  malice  and  envy; 
and  gave  him  that  weight  and  influence  in  every 
thing  he  undertook,  which  notliing  but  an  approved 
sincerity  can  give. 

Whatever  his  other  virtues  were,  their  lustre 
was  greatly  increased  by  his  humility.  To  conquer 
religious  pride,  is  one  of  the  best  effects  of  reli- 
gion ;  an  effect  which  his  religion  in  the  most  strik- 
ing manner  produced. 

With  regard  to  his  clerical  office,  no  man  could 
be  more  strongly  influenced  by  a  desire  of  dis- 
charging his  duties.  As  soon  as  he  undertook  the 
care  of  a  parish,  it  engrossed  his  attention.  The 
pleasures  of  life  he  totally  relinquished,  and  even 
restrained  his  favorite  pursuits  of  literature.  This 
was  the  more  commendable  in  him,  as  he  always 
had  a  strong  inclination  for  retirement ;  and  was 
often  violently  tempted  to  shut  himself  up  in  some 
university  at  home  or  abroad,  and  live  there  se- 
questered from  the  Avorld.  But  his  conscience 
corrected  his  inclination  ;  as  he  thought  the  life  of 
a  mere  recluse  by  no  means  agreeable  to  the  act- 
ive principles  of  Christianity.  The  very  repose  to 
which  his  age  laid  claim,  he  w^ould  not  indulge; 
but,  as  long  as  he  had  strength  sufficient,  he  per- 
severed in  the  laborious  discharge  of  the  various 
duties  of  his  station,  and  in  the  exercise  of  a  most 
extensive  charity. 

In  respect  to  his  benevolence,  it  may  justly  be 
said,  that  no  man  had  more   disinterested  views, 


7(j  BERNARD     GILPIN. 

or  made  the  common  good  more  the  study  of  his 
life ;  which  was,  indeed,  the  best  comment  on  the 
great  Christian  principle  of  universal  charity.  He 
called  nothinoj  his  own:  there  was  nothing  he 
could  not  readily  part  with  for  the  service  of  others. 
In  his  charitable  distributions,  he  had  no  measure 
but  the  bounds  of  his  income,  a  small  portion  of 
which  was  always  laid  out  on  himself  Nor  did 
he  give  as  if  he  were  granting  a  favor,  but  as  if 
he  were  paying  a  debt :  all  obsequious  service  or 
acknowledgment,  the  generosity  of  his  heart  dis- 
dained. 

No  part  of  his  character  was  more  conspicuous 
than  his  piety.  He  thought  religion  was  his  prin- 
cipal concern :  and,  of  course,  made  the  attainment 
of  just  notions  respecting  it,  his  chief  study.  To 
what  was  matter  of  mere  speculation,  he  paid  little 
or  no  regard:  such  opinions  only  as  influenced 
practice,  he  thought  concerned  him.  He  knew  no 
other  end  of  religion  than  a  holy  life :  and  there- 
fore in  all  his  enquiries  about  it,  he  considered  him- 
self as  looking  after  truths,  which  were  to  influence 
his  conduct,  and  make  him  a  better  man. 

All  his  moral  virtues  became  Christian  ones: 
they  were  formed  upon  such  motives,  and  they 
respected  such  ends,  as  Christianity  approves  and 
directs.  It  was  his  daily  care  to  conform  himself 
to  the  will  of  God ;  upon  whose  providence  he  ab- 
solutely depended,  in  all  conditions  of  life.  He 
was  resigned,  easy,  and  cheerful,  under  whatever 


BEKNAED      GILPIX.  V7 

commonly  reputed  misfortunes  he  met  with.  Be- 
lieving in  a  particular  providence,  he  was  grateful 
to  Heaven  for  every  benefit ;  and  studied  to  im- 
prove religiously  every  afflictive  event. 

Such  were  the  life  and  character  of  this  distin- 
guished person.  A  conduct  so  agreeable  to  the 
strictest  rules  of  religion  and  morality,  gained  him, 
among  his  contemporaries,  as  was  before  observed, 
the  title  of  the  Northern  Apostle.  The  parallel 
was  indeed  striking.  His  quitting  the  ancient  doc- 
trines, in  the  utmost  reverence  of  which  he  had 
been  educated  ;  the  persecutions  he  met  with  for 
the  sake  of  his  integrity ;  the  danger  he  often  ran 
of  martyrdom ;  his  contempt  of  the  world  ;  his  un- 
wearied application  to  the  business  of  his  calling ; 
and  the  boldness  and  freedom  with  which  he  re- 
proved the  guilty,  whatever  their  fortunes  or  sta- 
tions were ;  might  justly  characterize  him  a  truly 
apostolical  person. 

Viewed  with  such  a  life,  how  mean  and  con- 
temptible do  the  idle  amusements  of  the  world 
appear !  how  trifling  that  uninterrupted  succession 
of  serious  folly,  which  engages  a  great  part  of 
mankind,  who  crowd  into  a  small  compass  every 
important  concern  of  life  !  How  much  more  nobly 
does  that  person  act,  who,  unmoved  by  all  that  the 
world  calls  great  and  happy,  can  separate  appear- 
ances from  realities,  and  attend  only  to  what  is  just 
and  right;  who,  not  content  with  the  closest 
attainment    of  speculative    virtue,    maintains    each 


78  BEKNAKD     GILPIN. 

worthy  resolution  that  he  forms;  and  perseveres 
steadily,  like  this  excellent  man,  in  the  conscien- 
tious discharge  of  the  duties  of  that  station,  what- 
ever it  be,  in  which  Providence  has  placed  him ! 

This  memoir  is  principally  taken  from  a  work  entitled, 
"  The  Life  of  Bernard  Gilpin  :  by  William  Gilpin,  M.  A."  It 
is  a  valuable  and  interesting  piece  of  biography. 


SECTION    VI. 

JANE,    QUEEN    OF    NAVARRE. 

This  excellent  queen  was  the  daughter  of  Henry 
II.,  king  of  Navarre,  and  of  Margaret  of  Orleans, 
sister  to  Francis  I.,  king  of  France.  She  was  born 
in  the  year  1528. 

From  her  childhood,  she  was  carefully  educated 
in  the  Protestant  religion,  to  which  she  steadfastly 
adhered  all  her  days.     Bishop  Burnet  says  of  her : 
"That   she   both  received   the   Reformation,   and 
brought  her  subjects  to  it :  that  she  not  only  re- 
formed her  court,  but  the  whole  principality,  to 
such  a  degree,  that  the   Golden  Age  seemed   to 
have  returned  under  her;  or  rather,  Christianity 
appeared  again  with  its  primitive  purity  and  lustre." 
This  illustrious  queen,  being  invited  to  attend 
the  nuptials  of  her  son  and  the  king  of  France's 
sister,  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  cruel  machinations  of 
the  French  court,  against  the  Protestant  religion. 
The  religious   fortitude    and    genuine   piety,    with 
which  she  was  endued,  did   not,  however,   desert 
her  in  this  great  conflict,  and  at  the  approach  of 
death. 

To  some  that  were  about  her,  near  the  conclu- 


80      JANE,  QUEEN  OF  NAVAKRE. 

sion  of  her  time,  she  said  :  "  I  receive  all  this  as 
from  the  hand  of  God,  my  most  merciful  Father : 
nor  have  T,  during  my  extremity,  feared  to  die, 
much  less  murmured  against  God  for  inflicting  this 
chastisement  upon  me  ;  knowing  that  whatsoever 
he  does  with  me,  he  so  orders  it,  that,  in  the  end, 
it  shall  turn  to  my  everlasting  good." 

When  she  saw  her  ladies  and  women  weeping 
about  her  bed,  she  blamed  them,  saying :  "  Weep 
not  for  me,  I  pray  you.  God,  by  this  sickness, 
calls  me  hence  to  enjoy  a  better  life  :  and  now  I 
shall  enter  into  the  desired  haven,  towards  which 
this  frail  vessel  of  mine  has  been  a  long  time  steer- 
ing." 

She  expressed  some  concern  for  her  children,  as 
they  would  be  deprived  of  her  in  their  tender 
years ;  but  added  :  "  I  doubt  not  that  God  himself 
will  be  their  father  and  protector,  as  he  has  ever 
been  mine  in  my  greatest  afflictions :  I,  therefore, 
commit  them  wholly  to  his  government  and  father- 
ly care.  I  believe  that  Christ  is  my  only  Mediator 
and  Saviour  ;  and  I  look  for  salvation  from  no 
other.  O  my  God  !  in  thy  good  time,  deUver  me 
from  the  troubles  of  this  present  life,  that  I  may 
attain  to  the  felicity  which  thou  hast  promised  to 
bestow  upon  me." 


SECTION    VII. 
SIR    PRANCIS    WALSINOHAM. 

Sir  Francis  Walsingham,  an  eminent  person 
in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  born  at 
Chislehurst  in  Kent,  of  an  ancient  and  honor- 
able family.  He  made  great  progress  in  his 
studies  at  Cambridge :  and,  to  complete  his 
education,  travelled  into  foreign  countries,  where 
he  acquired  various  languages  and  great  accom- 
plishments. 

He  was  three  times  sent  ambassador  to  France. 
Queen  Elizabeth  made  him  Secretary  of  State, 
and  employed  him  in  the  most  important  affairs. 
He  had,  indeed,  a  great  share  in  promoting 
and  accomplishing  the  extraordinary  measures 
which  distinguished  that  illustrious  reign.  It 
may  be  justly  said,  that  he  was  one  of  the 
most  refined  politicians,  and  most  penetrating 
statesmen,  that  are  known  in  history.  He  had 
an  admirable  talent,  both  in  discovering,  and 
managing  the  secret  recesses  of  the  heart.  To 
his  sagacity  and  diligence,  under  Divine  Prov- 
idence, may  be  attributed  the  defeat  of  the  king 
of  Spain's  grand  Armada. 
4* 


82  SIPw    FRANCIS    WALSINGHAM. 

This  great  man  furnished  a  remarkable  proof 
of  his  disinterestedness,  and  his  preference  of  the 
pubhc,  to  his  private  interest:  for  after  all  his 
eminent  services  to  his  country,  he  was  so  poor, 
that,  excepting  his  library,  which  was  a  very  fine 
one,  he  had  scarcely  effects  enough  to  defray  the 
ex]3ense  of  his  funeral. 

Some  time  before  his  death,  which  happened 
in  1590,  he  became  deeply  impressed  with  a 
sense  of  the  superior  importance  of  religion  to 
all  other  considerations.  In  a  letter  to  his  fellow- 
secretary  Burleigh,  lord-treasurer  of  England,  he 
writes  thus :  "  We  have  lived  enough  to  our  coun- 
try, our  fortunes,  our  sovereign ;  it  is  high  time 
to  begin  to  live  to  ourselves,  and  to  our  God." 
This  giving  occasion  for  some  facetious  person  of 
the  court,  to  visit,  and  to  try  to  divert  him ;  he 
expressed  himself  to  the  following  effect:  "Ah! 
while  we  laugh,  all  things  are  serious  around  us. 
God  is  serious,  who  preserves  us,  and  has  patience 
towards  us;  Christ  is  serious  who  shed  his  blood 
for  us ;  the  Holy  Spirit  is  serious  when  he  strives 
with  us;  the  whole  creation  is  serious  in  serving 
God  and  us ;  all  are  serious  in  another  world  :  how 
suitable  then  is  it,  for  a  man  who  has  one  foot  in 
the  grave  to  be  serious !  and  how  can  he  be  gay 
and  trifling  ?" 

This  enlightened  and  excellent  person  was,  doubt- 
less, friendly  to  a  cheerful  temper  of  mind,  and  to 
innocent  recreations,  on  all  suitable  occasions :  but 


SIR    FBANCIS     WALSINGHAM.  83 

he  knew  and  felt,  that  there  are  events  and  cir- 
cumstances in  our  lives,  which  call  for  peculiar 
circumsjDection  and  seriousness,  as  most  congenial 
with  our  situation,  and  most  conducive  to  our  best 
interests. 


SECTION    VIII. 

LADY     JANE     GREY. 

This  excellent  personage  was  descended  from 
the  royal  line  of  England,  by  both  her  joarents. 
She  was  carefully  educated  m  the  principles  of  the 
Reformation.  Besides  the  solid  endowments  of 
piety  and  virtue,  she  possessed  the  most  engaging 
disposition,  and  the  most  accomplished  parts. 
Being  of  an  equal  age  with  king  Edward  VI.,  she 
received  her  education  with  him,  and  seemed  even 
to  possess  a  greater  faciUty  in  acquiring  every  part 
of  manly  and  classical  literature.  She  attained  a 
knowledge  of  the  Roman  and  Greek  languages,  as 
well  as  of  several  modern  tongues ;  passed  most  of 
her  time  in  application  to  learning ;  and  expressed 
a  great  indifference  for  the  occupations  and  amuse- 
ments usual  with  persons  of  her  sex  and  station. 

Roger  Ascham,  tutor  to  the  princess  Ehzabeth, 
having  at  one  time  paid  her  a  visit,  found  her  em- 
ployed in  reading  Plato,  while  the  rest  of  the  family 
were  engaged  in  a  party  of  hunting  in  the  park : 
and  upon  his  admiring  the  singularity  of  her  choice, 
she   told   him,  that  "  she  received  more   pleasure 


LADYJANEGREY.  85 

from  that  author,  than  others  could  reap  from  all 
their  sports  and  gayety." 

This  amiable  lady  fell  an  innocent  victim  to  the 
wild  ambition  of  the  duke  of  Northumberland; 
who,  having  effected  a  marriage  between  her  and 
his  son,  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  raised  her  to  the 
throne  of  England,  in  defiance  of  the  rights  of  the 
princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth.  At  the  time  of 
her  marriage,  she  was  but  eighteen  years  of  age ; 
and  her  husband  was  also  very  young. 

Her  heart,  replete  with  the  love  of  literature  and 
serious  studies,  and  with  tenderness  towards  her 
husband,  who  was  deserving  of  her  affection,  had 
never  opened  itself  to  the  flattering  allurements  of 
ambition  ;  and  the  information  of  her  advancement 
to  the  throne,  was  by  no  means  agreeable  to  her. 
She  even  refused  to  accept  the  crown ;  pleaded  the 
superior  right  of  the  two  princesses;  expressed  her 
dread  of  the  consequences  attending  an  entei-prise 
so  dangerous,  not  to  say  so  criminal ;  and  desired 
to  remain  in  that  private  station  in  which  she  was 
born. 

Overcome  at  last  by  the  entreaties,  rather  than 
by  the  reasons,  of  her  father  and  father-in-law,  and, 
above  all,  of  her  husband,  she  submitted  to  their 
will,  and  M^as  prevailed  on  to  relinquish  her  own 
judgment.  But  her  elevation  was  of  very  short 
continuance.  Tlie  nation  declared  for  Queen  Mary: 
and  Lady  Jane  Grey,  after  wearing  the  \:v.n  pa- 
geantry of  a  crown,  during  ten  days,  returned  to 


86  LADTJANEGRET. 

a  private  life,  with  much  more  satisfaction  than  she 
could  have  felt  when  royalty  was  tendered  to  her. 

Queen  Mary,  who  appears  to  have  been  incapable 
of  generosity  or  clemency,  determined  to  remove 
every  person  from  whom  the  least  danger  could  be 
apprehended.  "Warning  was,  therefore,  given  to 
Lady  Jane  to  prepare  for  death ;  a  doom  which  she 
had  expected,  and  which  the  innocence  of  her  life, 
as  well  as  the  misfortunes  to  which  she  had  been 
exposed,  rendered  no  unwelcome  news  to  her. 

The  queen's  bigoted  zeal,  under  color  of  tender 
mercy  to  the  prisoner's  soul,  induced  her  to  send 
priests,  who  molested  her  with  perpetual  disputa- 
tion ;  and  even  a  reprieve  of  three  days  was  granted 
her,  in  hopes  that  she  would  be  persuaded,  during 
that  time,  to  pay,  by  a  timely  conversion  to  popery, 
some  regard  to  her  eternal  welfare. 

Lady  Jane  had  presence  of  mind,  in  those  mel- 
ancholy circumstances,  not  only  to  defend  her  reli- 
gion by  solid  arguments,  but  also  to  write  a  letter 
to  her  sister,  in  the  Greek  language  ^  in  which  she 
exhorted  her  to  maintain,  in  every  fortune,  a  like 
steady  perseverance. 

On  the  day  of  her  execution,  her  husband.  Lord 
Guildford,  desired  permission  to  see  her ;.  but  she 
refused  her  consent,  and  sent  him  word,  that  the 
tenderness  of  their  parting  would  overcome  the  for- 
titude of  both,  and  would  too  much  unbend  their 
minds  from  that  constancy,  which  their  approaching 
end  required.     Their  separation,  she  said,  would  be 


LADYJAXEGREY.  87 

only  for  a  moment;  and  tbey  would  soon  rejoin 
each  other  in  a  scene  where  their  affections  would 
be  for  ever  united,  and  where  death,  disappoint- 
ments, and  misfortunes,  could  no  longer  have  access 
to  them,  or  disturb  their  eternal  felicity. 

It  had  been  intended  to  execute  the  Lady  Jane 
and  her  husband  on  the  same  scaffold,  at  Tower- 
hill  :  but  the  council  dreading  the  compassion  of 
the  people  for  their  youth,  beauty,  innocence,  and 
noble  birth,  changed  their  orders,  and  gave  direc- 
tions that  they  should  be  beheaded  within  the 
verge  of  the  Tower.  She  saw  her  husband  led  to 
execution  ;  and  having  given  him  from  the  window 
some  token  of  her  remembrance,  waited  with  tran- 
quillity till  her  own  appointed  hour  should  bring 
her  to  a  like  fate.  She  even  saw  his  headless  body 
carried  back  in  a  cart ;  and  found  herself  more  con- 
firmed by  the  reports  which  she  heard  of  the  con- 
stancy of  his  end,  than  shaken  by  so  tender  and 
melancholy  a  spectacle. 

Sir  John  Gage,  constable  of  the  Tower,  when  he 
led  her  to  execution,  desired  her  to  bestow  on  him 
some  small  present,  which  he  might  keep  as  a  per- 
petual memorial  of  her.  She  gave  him  her  table- 
book,  on  which  she  had  just  written  three  sen- 
tences, on  seeing  her  husband's  dead  body ;  one  in 
Greek,  another  in  Latin,  a  third  in  English.  The 
purport  of  them  was,  that  human  justice  was  against 
his  body,  but  that  Divine  Mercy  would  be  favor- 
able to  his  soul ;  that  if  her  fault  deserved  punish- 


88  LADY     JANE    GREY. 

ment,  her  youth,  at  least,  and  her  imprudence,  were 
worthy  of  excuse ;  and  that  God  and  posterity,  she 
trusted,  would  show  her  flivor. 

On  the  scaffold,  she  made  a  speech  to  tlie  by- 
standers, in  which  the  mildness  of  her  disposition 
led  her  to  take  the  blame  entirely  on  herself,  witli- 
out  uttering  one  complaint  against  the  severity 
with  which  she  had  been  treated.  She  said,  that 
her  offence  w^as,  not  that  she  had  laid  her  hand  upon 
the  crown,  but  that  she  had  not  rejected  it  with  suf- 
ficient constancy :  that  she  had  erred  less  through 
ambition,  than  through  reverence  to  her  parents, 
whom  she  had  been  taught  to  respect  and  obey : 
that  she  willingly  received  death,  as  the  only  satis- 
faction which  she  could  now  make  to  the  injured 
state :  and  though  her  infringement  of  the  laAvs  had 
been  constrained,  she  would  show,  by  her  voluntary 
submission  to  their  sentence,  that  she  was  desirous 
to  atone  for  that  disobedience,  into  which  too  much 
filial  piety  had  betrayed  her :  that  she  had  justly 
deserved  this  punishment,  for  being  made  the  in- 
strument, though  the  unwilling  instrument,  of  the 
ambition  of  others :  and  that  the  story  of  her  life, 
she  hoped,  miglit  at  least  be  useful,  by  proving  that 
innocence  of  intention  excuses  not  actions  that  any 
way  tend  to  the  destruction  of  the  commonwealth. 

After  uttering  these  words,  she  caused  herself  to 
be  disrobed  by  her  w^omen  ;  and  with  a  steady, 
serene  countenance,  submitted  herself  to  the  exe- 
cutioner. 


LADYJANEGKEY.  89 

We  shall  conclude  the  account  of  this  virtuous 
and  excellent  young  person,  with  a  few  remarks 
respecting  her,  made  by  bishop  Burnet :  "  She 
read,"  says  he,  "  the  Scriptures  much,  and  had  at- 
tained great  knowledge  of  religious  subjects.  But 
with  all  her  advantages  of  birth  and  parts,  she  was 
so  humble,  so  gentle  and  pious,  that  all  people  both 
admired  and  loved  her.  She  had  a  mind  wonder- 
fully raised  above  the  world  ;  and  at  the  age,  when 
others  are  but  imbibing  the  notions  of  philosophy, 
she  had  attained  the  j^ractice  of  the  highest  pre- 
cepts of  it. 

"  She  was  neither  lifted  up  with  the  hope  of  a 
crown,  nor  cast  down,  when  she  saw  her  palace 
made  afterwards  her  prison;  but  maintained  an 
equal  temper  of  mind  in  those  great  inequaHties  of 
fortune,  that  so  suddenly  exalted  and  depressed  her. 
All  the  passion  which  she  expressed,  was  that  which 
is  of  the  noblest  sort,  and  which  is  the  indication  of 
tender  and  generous  natures,  being  much  affected 
with  the  troubles  which  her  husband  and  father  suf- 
fered on  her  account.  She  rejoiced  at  her  ap- 
proaching end,  since  nothing  could  be  to  her  more 
welcome,  than  to  pass  from  this  valley  of  misery, 
to  that  heavenly  throne  to  which  she  was  to  be 
advanced," 


SECTION    IX. 

SIR    WALTER    RALEIGH. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  an  illustrious  English- 
man, of  an  ancient  family  in  Devonshire,  was  born 
in  1552.  He  was  a  man  of  admirable  parts,  exten- 
sive knowledge,  undaunted  resolution,  and  strict 
honor  and  honesty.  As  a  soldier,  a  statesman,  and 
a  scholar,  he  was  greatly  distinguished  ;  and  was 
eminently  useful  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  protected 
and  encouraged  him  in  the  various  enterprises 
which  he  projected.  He  was  the  discoverer  of 
Virginia ;  and  took  effectual  measures  for  the  set- 
tlement of  the  country,  and  for  promoting  its  pros- 
perity. 

His  active  enterprises  against  the  Spaniards,  both 
in  Europe  and  South  America,  excited  the  particu- 
lar enmity  of  the  court  of  Spain,  which  used  every 
means  to  effect  his  destruction.  During  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth,  these  machinations  were  fruitless  ;  but 
on  the  accession  of  James  I.,  Sir  Walter  lost  his 
interest  at  court,  was  stripped  of  his  employments, 
and  unjustly  accused  and  condemned  for  a  plot 
against  the  king. 

He  was  afterwards  trusted  by  James  with  a  com. 


SIR    WALTER    RALEIGH.  91 

mission  of  considerable  importance ;  and  thus  vir- 
tually pardoned  for  all  suj^posed  offences.  Tlie 
malice  of  his  enemies,  however,  at  length  prevailed 
against  him  ;  and  he  was  pusillanimously  sacrificed 
to  appease  the  Spaniards,  who,  Avhilst  Raleigh 
lived,  thought  every  part  of  their  dominions  in 
danger. 

He  was  executed  in  Old  Palace  Yard,  in  the 
66th  year  of  his  age.  His  behaviour  on  the  scaf- 
fold was  manly,  unaffected,  and  even  cheerful. 
Being  asked  by  the  executioner  which  way  he 
would  lay  his  head,  he  answered  : — *'  So  the  heart 
be  right,  it  is  no  matter  which  way  the  head  hes." 

During  his  imprisonment,  and  with  the  prospect 
of  death  before  him,  he  wrote  the  following  lettera 
to  his  son,  and  to  his  wife.  They  contain  many 
solemn  and  affecting  admonitions ;  and  testify  the 
influence  of  religion  on  his  mind. 

In  the  letter  to  his  son,  he  says :  "  My  son,  let 
my  experienced  advice,  and  fatherly  instructions, 
sink  deep  into  thy  heart.  Seek  not  riches  basely, 
nor  attain  them  by  evil  means.  Destroy  no  man 
for  his  wealth,  nor  take  any  thing  from  the  poor ; 
for  the  cry  thereof  will  pierce  tlie  heavens  :  and  it 
is  most  detestable  before  God,  and  most  dishonor- 
able before  worthy  men,  to  wrest  any  thing  from 
the  needy  and  laboring  soul.  God  will  never  pros- 
per thee,  if  thou  offendest  therein.  Use  thy  poor 
neighbors  and  tenants  well.  Have  compassion  on 
the  poor  and  afflicted,  and  God  will  bless  thee  for 


92  SIK    WALTER    RALEIGH. 

it.  Make  not  the  hungry  soul  sorrowful :  for  if  he 
curse  thee  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  his  prayer 
shall  be  heard  of  him  that  made  him. 

"  Now,  for  the  world,  dear  child,  I  know  it  too 
well  to  persuade  thee  to  dive  into  the  practices  of 
It ;  rather  stand  upon  thy  guard  against  all  those 
that  tempt  thee  to  it,  or  may  practise  upon  thee, 
whether  in  thy  conscience,  thy  reputation,  or  thy 
estate.  Be  assured  that  no  man  is  wise  or  safe,  but 
he  that  is  honest.  Serve  God,  let  him  be  the 
author  of  all  thy  actions.  Commend  all  thy  en- 
deavors to  him,  that  must  either  wither  or  prosper 
them.  Please  him  with  prayer,  lest  if  he  frown, 
he  confound  all  thy  fortune  and  labor,  like  the 
drops  of  rain  upon  the  sandy  ground.  So  God 
direct  thee  in  all  thy  ways,  and  fill  thy  heart  with 
his  grace !" 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  letter  to  his  wife : 

"  You  will  receive,  my  dear  w^ife,  my  last  w^ords, 
m  these  my  last  lines.  My  love  I  send  you,  which 
you  may  keep  when  I  am  dead  ;  and  my  counsel, 
that  you  may  remember  it,  when  I  am  no  more.  I 
would  not,  with  my  will,  present  you  sorrows,  dear 
wife ;  let  them  go  to  the  grave  with  me,  and  be 
buried  in  the  dust :  and  seeing  that  it  is  not  the 
will  of-  God  that  I  shall  see  you  any  more,  bear  my 
destruction  patiently,  and  with  a  heart  like  your- 
self 

"  First,  I  send  you  all  the  thanks  which  my  heart 
can  conceive,  or  my  words  express,  for  your  many 


SI  R    W  ALTEK    R  A  LEI  G  n,  03 

travails  and  caves  for  me  ;  for  thongh  they  have 
not  taken  effect,  as  you  wisliecl,  yet  my  debt  to  you 
is  not  the  less  ;  but  pay  it  I  never  shall  in  this 
world. 

"  Secondly,  I  beseech  you,  for  the  lovo  you  bear 
me  living,  that  you  do  not  hide  yourself  many 
days  ;  but  by  your  travails  seek  to  help  my  miser- 
able fortunes,  and  the  right  of  your  poor  child  : 
your  mourning  cannot  avail  me,  who  am  but  dust. 

"Thirdly,  you  shall  understand,  that  my  lands 
were  conveyed,  hona  fide^  to  my  chiUl :  the  writ- 
ings were  drawn  at  midsummer  was  a  twelve- 
month, as  divers  can  witness.  I  trust  my  blood 
will  quench  their  malice  who  desired  my  slaughter; 
and  that  they  will  not  seek  to  kill  you  and  yours 
with  extreme  poverty. 

*'  To  what  friend  to  direct  you,  I  know  not ;  for 
all  mine  have  left  me  in  the  true  time  of  trial. 
Most  sorry  am  I,  that  being  surprised  by  death,  I 
can  leave  you  no  better  estate :  God  hath  pre- 
vented all  my  determinations  :  that  great  God,  who 
worketh  all  in  all.  If  you  can  live  free  from  want, 
care  for  no  more  ;  for  the  rest  is  but  vanity. 

"  Love  God,  and  begin  betimes ;  in  him  you  will 
find  true  and  endless  comfort :  when  you  have 
travailed  and  wearied  yourself  with  all  sorts  of 
worldly  cogitations,  you  will  sit  down  with  soitow 
in  the  end.  Teach  your  son  also  to  serve  and  fear 
God  whilst  he  is  young,  that  the  fear  of  God  may 
grow  up  in  him :  then  will  God  bo  a  husband  to 


94  SIR     WALTER     RALEIGH. 

you,  and  a  father  to  him ;  a  husband  and  a  father 
that  can  never  be  taken  from  you. 

"Dear  wife,  I  beseech  you,  for  ray  soul's  sake, 
pay  all  poor  men.  When  I  am  dead,  no  doubt 
you  will  be  much  sought  unto ;  for  the  world 
thinks  I  was  very  rich.  Have  a  care  of  the  fair 
pretences  of  men  ;  for  no  greater  misery  can  befall 
you  in  this  life,  than  to  become  a  prey  unto  the 
world,  and  afterwards  to  be  despised.  As  for  me, 
I  am  no  more  yours,  nor  you  mine :  death  has  cut 
us  asunder,  and  God  has  divided  me  from  the 
world,  and  you  from  me. 

"  Remember  your  poor  child,  for  his  father's 
sake,  who  loved  you  in  his  happiest  estate.  I  sued 
for  my  life  ;  but,  God  knows,  it  was  for  you  and 
yours,  that  I  desired  it ;  for  know  it,  my  dear  wife, 
your  child  is  the  child  of  a  true  man,  who  in  his 
own  respect  despiseth  death  and  his  mis-shapen  and 
ugly  forms.  *. 

"  I  cannot  write  much  :  God  knows  how  hardly 
I  steal  this  time,  when  all  are  asleep  :  and  it  is  also 
time  for  me  to  separate  my  thoughts  from  the 
world.  Beg  my  dead  body,  w^hich  living  was  de- 
nied you;  and  either  lay  it  in  Sherborne,  or  in 
Exeter  church,  by  my  father  and  mother. 

"  I  can  say  no  more :  time  and  death  call  me 
away.  The  everlasting  God,  powerful,  infinite,  and 
inscrutable,  God  Almighty,  who  is  goodness  itself, 
the  true  light  and  life,  keep  you  and  yours,  and 
have  mercy  upon  me,  and  forgive  my  persecutors 


SIR     WALTER     RALEIGH.  95 

and  false  accusers,  and  send  us  to  meet  in  his  glo- 
rious kingdom !  My  dear  wife,  farewell !  Lless  my 
boy ;  pray  for  me ;  and  may  my  true  God  hold  you 
both  in  his  arms ! 

"  Yours  that  was,  but  not  now  mine  own. 

"Walter  Raleigh." 


SECTION    X. 

RlOHARr>     HOOKEU. 

RiCHAED  Hooker  was  born  near  Exeter,  in  the 
year  1553.  He  possessed  great  learning  and  sound 
judgment;  and  distinguished  himself  by  a  cele- 
brated work,  entitled,  "  The  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical 
Polity."  He  was  a  meek  and  pious  man,  and  spent 
liis  days  in  laboring  to  promote  the  glory  of  his 
Creator,  and  the  happiness  of  men. 

In  1585,  he  Avas  made  master  of  the  Temple, 
which  was  deemed,  by  most  persons,  a  noble  pre- 
ferment. But  it  was  not  so  suitable  to  Hooker's 
temper,  as  the  retirement  of  a  living  in  the  coun- 
try ;  especially  as  he  had  to  encounter  much  oppo- 
sition. He  therefore  entreated  the  archbishop  to 
remove  him  to  a  more  peaceful  residence. 

"  When  I  lost,"  said  he,  "  the  freedom  of  my 
cell  which  was  my  college,  yet  I  found  some  degree 
of  it  in  my  quiet  country  parsonage.  But  I  am 
weary  of  the  noise  and  oppositions  of  this  place : 
and,  indeed,  God  and  nature  did  not  intend  me  for 
contentions,  but  for  study  and  quietness." 

His  cfesire  was,  to  be  placed  in  a  situation, 
*'  where,"  as  he  piously  expresses  himself,  '*  I  may 


K  I  C  II  A  K  D      HOOKER.  97 

Bee  God's  blessings  spring  out  of  the  cartli,  and  eat 
ray  own  bread,  in  peace  and  privacy  ;  a  place  where 
I  may,  without  disturbance,  meditate  on  my  ap- 
proaching mortality,  and  on  that  great  account, 
w^hich  all  flesh  must  give  at  the  last  day,  to  the 
God  of  all  spirits." 

His  exemplary  and  peaceable  life  did  not,  how- 
ever, secure  him  from  enemies,  by  whom  he  was 
grossly  calumniated,  and  charged  with  conduct 
which  he  abhorred.  Over  these  attacks,  the  good 
providence  of  God  enabled  him,  at  length,  to  tri- 
umph ;  and  his  slanderers  were  convicted,  and  duly 
punished. 

His  grateful  acknowledgments  to  Heaven,  for 
this  dehverance,  were  expressed  in  these  terms : — 
*'  O  my  God !  neither  my  life,  nor  my  reputation, 
is  safe  in  my  own  keeping ;  but  in  thine,  who  didst 
care  for  me,  when  I  yet  hung  on  my  mother's 
breast.  Blessed  are  they  who  put  their  trust  in 
thee  :  for  when  false  witnesses  were  risen  up  against 
me  ;  when  shame  was  ready  to  cover  my  face ; 
w^hen  I  was  bowed  down  with  a  horrible  dread, 
and  went  mourning  all  the  day  long;  then  thou,  O 
Lord,  didst  hear  my  complaint,  pity  my  condition, 
and  art  now  become  my  deliverer.  As  long  as  I 
live,  I  will  magnify  thy  mercy,  who  didst  not  give 
me  ovei-  to  my  enemies." 

When  his  slanderers  were  about  to  be  punished, 
he  endeavored  to  procure  their  pardon  :  but  find- 
ing his  labors  for  this  purpose  fruitless,  he  ob^^erved, 


98  RICHARD     HOOKER. 

that  "he  would,  however,  pray,  that  God  would 
give  them  repentance,  and  patience  to  undergo 
their  punishment."  After  this  deliverance,  he  was 
often  heard  to  say:  "O,  with  what  quietness  did  I 
enjoy  my  soul,  after  I  was  free  from  the  fears  of 
this  slander!  And  how  much  more,  after  the  eon- 
flict  with  myself,  and  the  victory  over  my  desires 
of  revenge !" 

Hooker  was  not  happy  in  his  marriage :  but  he 
endeavored  to  profit  by  this  trial,  and  to  be  cheer- 
fully resigned  to  the  will  of  God.  To  a  friend, 
who  expressed  his  sorrow  for  the  troubles  in  which 
he  saw  him  involved,  he  humbly  replied  in  this 
manner :  "  My  dear  friend,  I  ought  not  to  repine 
at  what  my  wise  Creator  hath  allotted  for  me  :  but 
I  ought  to  labor,  as  indeed  I  do  daily,  to  submit  to 
his  will,  and  to  possess  my  soul  in  patience  and 
peace." 

A  short  time  before  his  death,  this  humble  and 
truly  good  man,  expressed  himself  as  follows :  "  I 
have  lived  to  see  that  this  world  is  full  of  perturba' 
tions ;  and  I  have  been  long  preparing  to  leave  it, 
and  gathering  comfort  for  the  awful  hour  of  mak' 
ing  up  my  account  with  God,  which  I  now  appre- 
hend to  be  near.  And  though  I  have,  by  his  grace, 
loved  him  in  my  youth,  and  feared  him  in  my  age, 
and  labored  to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence 
towards  him,  and  towards  all  men  ;  yet,  if  thou. 
Lord,  shouldst  be  extreme  to  mark  what  I  have 
done  amiss,  how  shall  I  abide  it  ?     Where  I  have 


KICUAKDHOOKER.  99 

failed,  Lord,  sliow  mercy  to  me ;  for  I  plead  not 
iny  righteousness,  but  the  forgiveness  of  my  un- 
righteousness, througli  His  merits,  who  died  to  pur- 
chase pardon  for  penitent  sinners.  And  since  I 
owe  tliee  a  death,  Lord,  let  it  not  be  terrible, 
and  then  choose  thy  own  time ;  I  submit  to  it.  Let 
not  mine,  O  Lord,  but  thy  will  be  done !" 

At  another  time  he  said :  "  God  hath  heard  my 
daily  petition :  for  I  am  at  peace  with  all  men,  and 
he  is -at  peace  with  me.  From  this  blessed  assur- 
ance,  I  feel  that  inward  joy,  which  the  world  can 
neither  give,  nor  take  from  me.  My  conscience 
beareth  me  this  witness ;  and  this  witness  makes 
the  thoughts  of  death  joyful.  I  could  wish  to  live 
to  do  the  church  more  service ;  but  I  cannot  hope 
it ;  for  my  days  are  past,  as  a  shadow  that  returns 
not." 

Soon  after  he  had  uttered  these  expressions,  liis 
spirits  failed  him ;  and  a  short  conflict  put  a  period 
to  his  life,  in  the  47th  year  of  his  age. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney — Sir  Christopher  Hatton — Lord  Bacon 
— Sir  Henry  Wotton — Peter  Du  Moulin — Dr.  Donne — ■ 
Philip  III.,  King  of  Spain — Catharine  Bretterg — Oxen- 
STiERN,  Chancellor  of  Sweden — Hugo  Grotius — John 
Selden — Cardinal  Richelieu — Lord  Harrington — Sal- 

MASIUS. 


SECTION    I. 
SIR,    PHILIP    SIDNEY. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney  was  born  in  Kent,  in  the 
year  1554.  He  possessed  shining  talents;  was  well 
educated ;  and  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-one,  was 
sent  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  as  her  ambassador  to  the 
emperor  of  Germany.  He  is  described  by  the 
writers  of  that  age,  as  the  finest  model  of  an  ac- 
complished gentleman  that  could  be  formed,  even 
in  imagination. 

An  amiable  disposition,  elegant  erudition,  and 
polite  conversation,  rendered  him  the  ornament 
and  delight  of  the  English  court.  Lord  Brooke  so 
highly  valued  his  friendship,  that  he  directed  to  be 


SIR    PHILir     SIDNEY.  101 

inserted  as  part  of  bis  epitaph,  "Here  lies  Sir 
Philip  Sidney's  friend."  His  fame  was  so  widely 
spread,  that  if  he  had  chosen  it,  he  might  have  ob- 
tained the  crown  of  Poland. 

But  the  glory  of  this  Marcellns  of  the  English 
nation,  was  of  short  duration.  He  was  wounded 
at  the  battle  of  Zutphen,  and  carried  to  Arnheim, 
where,  after  languishing  about  three  weeks,  he 
died,  in  the  32d  year  of  his  age. 

This  accomplished  person,  at  the  solemn  period 
of  approaching  death,  when  a  just  estimate  of 
things  is  formed,  and  when  the  mind  looks  round 
for  support  and  consolation,  perceived  that  the 
greatest  worldly  honors  ai'e  only  splendid  vanities, 
and  have  but  a  momentary  duration.  At  this  pe- 
riod, he  was  so  dissatisfied  with  his  "  Arcadia,"  a 
romantic  work,  ill  agreeing  T\^th  his  present  serious 
views  of  things,  that  it  is  said,  he  desired  it  might 
never  be  published. 

After  he  had  received,  the  fatal  wound,  and  was 
brought  into  a  tent,  he  piously  raised  his  eyes 
towards  heaven,  and  acknowledged  the  hand  of 
God  in  this  event.  He  confessed  himself  to  be  a 
sinner,  and  returned  thanks  to  God,  that  "he  had 
not  struck  him  with  death  at  once ;  but  gave  him 
space  to  seek  repentance  and  reconciliation." 

Compared  with  his  present  views  of  religion,  his 
former  virtues  seemed  to  be  nothing.  When  it  was 
observed  to  him,  that  good  men,  in  the  time  of 
great  affliction,  found  comfort  and  support,  in  the 


102  SIE     PHILIP     SIDNEY. 

recollection  of  those  parts  of  their  lives,  in  which 
they  had  glorified  God ;  he  humbly  replied:  "It  is 
not  so  with  me.  I  have  no  comfort  that  way.  All 
things  in  ray  former  life  have  been  vain." 

On  being  asked,  whether  he  did  not  desire  life, 
merely  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  glorify  God,  he 
answered :  "  I  have  vowed  my  life  unto  God ;  and 
if  he  cut  me  off,  and  suffer  me  to  live  no  longer,  I 
shall  glorify  him,  and  give  up  myself  to  his  ser- 
vice." 

The  nearer  death  approached,  the  more  his  con- 
solation and  hopes  increased.  A  short  time  before 
his  dissolution,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  hands,  and 
uttered  these  words:  "I  would  not  change  my  joy 
for  the  empire  of  the  world." 

His  advice  and  observations,  on  taking  the  last 
leave  of  his  deeply  afflicted  brother,  are  worthy  of 
remembrance.  They  appear  to  have  been  expressed 
with  great  seriousness  and  composure.  "  Love  my 
memory  ;  cherish  my  friends.  Their  fidelity  to  me 
may  assure  you  that  they  are  honest.  But,  above 
all,  govern  your  wills  and  affections,  by  the  will 
and  word  of  your  Creator.  In  me,  behold  the  end 
of  the  world,  and  all  its  vanities." 


SECTION    II. 
SIR    CHRISTOPHER    HATTON. 

Sir  Cheistopher  Hattox  possessed  great  abili- 
ties, highly  cultivated  by  study  and  business.  Pie 
was  remarkable  for  his  eloquence  and  powers  of 
persuasion.  Queen  Elizabeth,  by  whom  he  was 
greatly  esteemed  and  favored,  made  him  lord  high 
chancellor  of  England.  And  it  was  remarkable, 
that  though  he  had  never  followed  the  profession 
of  the  law,  his  knowledge  of  it  was  so  profound, 
that  none  of  his  decisions,  as  chancellor,  were  ever 
found  deficient  either  in  equity  or  judgment. 

This  learned  man  had  a  high  veneration  for  the 
Holy  ScrijDtures ;  and  a  short  time  before  his  death, 
particularly  recommended  to  his  relations,  to  search 
them  seriously  and  diligently,  in  order  to  discover 
the  will  of  God.  "  It  is,"  said  he,  "justly  accounted 
a  piece  of  excellent  knowledge,  to  understand  the 
law  of  the  land,  and  the  customs  of  our  country; 
but  how  much  more  excellent  is  it,  to  know  the 
statutes  of  heaven,  and  the  laws  of  eternity,  the  im- 
mutable and  perpetual  laws  of  justice  and  righteous- 
ness !  to  know  the  will  and  pleasure  of  the  great 
Monarch  and  universal  King  of  the  Avorld!  'I  have 


104  SIK     CHRISTOPHER    HATTON. 

seen  an  end  of  all  perfection;  but  thy  command- 
ments, O  God !  are  exceedingly  broad.'  " 

The  knowledge  of  the  Divine  will,  is,  indeed,  the 
most  important  of  all  knowledge.  "Were  we  pos- 
sessed of  the  most  comprehensive  understanding, 
the  finest  imagination,  and  the  most  capacious 
memory ;  were  we  able  to  penetrate  into  all  the 
secrets  of  nature,  and  sound  the  depths  of  every 
art  and  science ;  and  yet  remain  ignorant  of,  or 
disregard.  Him  w^ho  is  the  Author  of  our  being 
and  the  Preserver  of  our  lives,  our  Sovereign  and 
our  Judge ;  we  should,  Avith  a  great  deal  of  know- 
ledge, mistake  our  highest  interests,  and  be  misera- 
ble for  ever. 


SECTION    III. 

LORD     BACON. 

Feaxcis  Bacox,  Tiscount  St.  Albans,  and  lord 
liigli  chancellor  of  England,  was  born  in  the  year 
1561.  The  following  account  of  this  celebrated 
philosopher,  is  taken  from  Addison : 

"  Sir  Francis  Bacon  was  a  man  who,  for  great- 
ness of  genius,  and  compass  of  knowledge,  did 
honor  to  his  age  and  country ;  I  could  almost  say, 
to  human  nature  itself.  He  possessed  at  once  all 
those  extraordinary  talents,  which  were  divided 
amongst  the  greatest  authors  of  antiquity.  He 
had  the  sound,  distinct,  comprehensive  knowledge 
of  Aristotle,  with  all  the  beautiful  lights,  graces, 
and  embellishments  of  Cicero.  One  does  not  know 
which  to  admire  most  in  his  writings,  the  strength 
of  reason,  the  force  of  style,  or  the  brightness  of 
imagination. 

"I  was  infinitely  pleased  to  find,  among  the 
works  of  this  extraordinary  man,  a  prayer  of  his 
own  composing ;  which,  for  its  elevation  of  thought, 
and  greatness  of  expression,  seems  rather  the  devo- 
tion of  an  angel  than  of  a  man.  His  principal  fiiult 
appears  to  have  been,  the  excess  of  that  virtu(3 
5* 


106  LORD    BACON. 

which  covers  a  multitude  of  faults.  This  betrayed 
him  to  so  great  an  indulgence  towards  his  servants, 
who  made  a  corrupt  use  of  it,  that  it  stripped  him 
of  those  riches  and  honors,  which  a  long  series  of 
merits  had  heaped  upon  him.  But  in  this  prayer, 
at  the  same  time  that  we  find  him  prostrating  hin> 
self  before  the  great  mercy-seat,  and  humbled  un. 
der  afflictions,  which  at  that  time  lay  heavy  upon 
him,  we  see  him  supported  by  the  sense  of  his  in- 
tegrity, his  zeal,  his  devotion,  and  his  love  of  man- 
kind ;  which  gave  him  a  much  higher  figure,  in  the 
minds  of  thinking  men,  than  that  greatness  had 
done  from  which  he  was  fallen.  I  shall  write  down 
the  prayer  itself,  as  it  was  found  among  his  lord- 
ship's papers,  written  with  his  own  hand ; — 

" '  Most  gracious  Lord  God,  my  merciful  Father ! 
my  Creator,  my  Redeemer,  my  Comforter!  thou 
soundest  and  searchest  the  depths  and  secrets  of 
all  hearts;  thou  acknowledgest  the  upright;  thou 
judgest  the  hypocrite;  vanity  and  crooked  ways 
cannot  be  hid  from  thee. 

"'Remember,  O  Lord,  how  thy  servant  has 
walked  before  thee;  remember  what  I  have  first 
sought,  and  what  has  been  principal  in  my  inten- 
tions. I  have  loved  thy  assemblies ;  I  have  mourned 
for  the  divisions  of  thy  church ;  I  have  delighted 
in  the  brightness  of  thy  sanctuary;  I  have  ever 
prayed  unto  thee,  that  the  vine  which  thy  right 
hand  hath  planted  in  this  nation,  might  have  the 
former   and   the   latter  rain;    and   that   it   might 


LORD     BACON.  107 

Stretch  its  branches  to  the  seas,  and  to  the  floods. 
The  state  and  bread  of  the  poor  and  oppressed 
have  been  precious  in  my  eyes ;  I  liuve  hated  all 
cruelty  and  hardness  of  heart ;  I  have,  though  a 
despised  weed,  endeavored  to  procure  the  good  of 
all  men.  If  any  have  been  my  enemies,  I  thought 
not  of  them,  neither  has  the  sun  gone  down  upon 
my  displeasure  :  but  I  have  been  as  a  dove,  free 
from  superfluity  of  maliciousness.  Thy  creatures 
have  been  my  books,  but  thy  Scriptures  much  more 
so.  I  have  sought  thee  in  the  courts,  the  fields, 
and  the  gardens;  but  I  have  found  thed  in  thy 
•temples. 

" '  Thousands  have  been  my  sins,  and  ten  thou- 
sands my  transgressions :  but  thy  sanctifications 
have  remained  with  me,  and  my  heart,  through  thy 
grace,  hath  been  an  unquenched  coal  upon  thine 
altar. 

*' '  O  Lord,  my  strength  !  I  have,  from  my  youth, 
met  with  thee  in  all  my  ways ;  in  thy  fatherly  com> 
passions,  in  thy  merciful  chastisements,  and  in  thy 
most  visible  j^rovidences.  As  thy  favors  have  in- 
creased upon  me,  so  have  thy  corrections ;  as  my 
worldly  blessings  were  exalted,  so  secret  darts  from 
thee  have  pierced  me  ;  and  when  I  have  ascended 
before  men,  1  have  descended  in  liumiliation  before 
thee.  And  now,  when  I  have  been  thinking  most 
of  place  and  honor,  thy  hand  is  heavy  upon  me, 
and  has  humbled  me  according  to  thy  former  loving- 
kindness,  keeping  me  still  in  thy  fatherly  school, 


108  LOEDBACON. 

not  as  a  bastard,  but  as  a  child.  Just  are  thy 
judgments  upon  me  for  my  sins,  which  are  more 
in  number  than  the  sands  of  the  sea,  but  which 
have  no  proportion  to  thy  mercies.  Besides  my 
innumerable  sins,  I  confess  before  thee,  that  I  am 
debtor  to  thee  for  the  gracious  talents  of  thy  gifts 
and  graces ;  which  I  have  neither  put  into  a  nap- 
kin, nor  placed,  as  I  ought,  with  exchangers,  where 
it  might  have  made  best  profit;  but  I  have  mis- 
spent it  in  things  for  which  I  was  least  fit :  so  I 
may  truly  say,  my  soul  has  been  a  stranger  in  the 
course  of  ray  pilgrimage.  Be  merciful  unto  me,  O 
Lord,  for  my  Saviour's  sake,  and  receive  me  into 
thy  bosom,  or  guide  me  in  thy  ways.' " 


SECTION    IV. 

SIR    HENRY     ^VOTTON. 

Sir  Henry  Wotton,  an  Englishman,  eminent 
for  learning,  and  for  knowledge  in  state  affairs, 
was  born  in  the  year  1568.  He  was  often  em> 
ployed  by  James  the  First,  as  ambassador  to  seve- 
ral of  the  European  states ;  and  discharged  the 
trust  reposed  in  him,  with  ability,  and  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  king.  He  enjoyed  the  favor  of  this 
prince,  and  was  much  esteemed  and  admired  by 
his  contemporaries.  But  these  honors  did  not  af- 
ford him  that  satisfactioOvVhich  a  wise  man  washes 
to  obtain.  Amidst  them  all  he  could  say :  "  It  is 
the  greatest  happiness  of  my  life,  to  be  at  leisure 
to  be,  and  to  do  good." 

Though  he  was  much  esteemed  for  his  wisdom 
and  regular  deportment,  yet  near  the  end  of  his 
days,  when  he  reflected  seriously  on  his  past  life, 
he  felt  great  concern ;  and  often  repeated  these 
solemn  expressions :  "  How  much  have  I  to  repent 
of,  and  how  little  time  to  do  it  in !" 


SECTION    V. 

PETER    DU     MOULIN. 

Peter  du  Moulin,  an  eminent  Protestant  min- 
ister in  France,  was  born  in  the  year  1568.  Bayle 
calls  him  "  one  of  the  most  celebrated  ministers, 
that  the  reformed  church  in  France  ever  had  to 
boast  of."  He  was  a  man  of  such  eminence,  that 
James  the  First  of  England  employed  him  to  at- 
tempt the.  accomplishment  of  a  union  between  the 
reformed  and  Lutheran  churches. 

This  pious  and  excellent  man  was  remarkable 
through  life,  for  a  low  gpinion  of  himself,  and  an 
unwearied  diligence  in  doing  good.  In  his  last 
sickness,  his  meekness  and  humility  were  particu- 
larly prevalent.  On  heariag  himself  praised  by 
one  who  thought  he  undervalued  himself,  he  said, 
with  indignation,  "Away  with  this  flattery,  and 
pray  to  God  to  have  mercy  on  me."  "  Lord,"  said 
he,  "I  have  deserved  nothing  but  punishment. 
Thou  hast  heaped  blessings  upon  me.  Thou  hast 
honored  me  with  a  holy  calHng :  but  I  have  not 
labored  according  to  the  worth  of  it :  I  have  ming- 
led ray  own  glory  with  thine.  I  have  often  ne- 
glected thy  service,  to  seek  my  particular  interest. 


PETER      DU      MOULIN.  Ill 

O,  how  much  self-love !  what  perverseness  has  op- 
posed the  kingdom  of  thy  Sou  withiu  me  !  How 
ofteu  have  I  grieved  thy  Holy  Spirit,  by  idle 
thoughts  and  carnal  affections !  and  yet  thou  hast 
always  shown  thyself  a  gracious  and  merciful  Fa- 
ther to  me.  Thou  hast,  indeed,  sometimes  chas- 
tened me  with  thy  rod.  Thou  hast  hid  thy  face 
from  me  for  a  moment :  but  thou  hast  remembered 
me  in  thy  great  compassion.  Lord,  thou  art  faith- 
ful in  thy  promises.  I  am  thy  creature.  Thou 
hast  led  me,  and  taught  me,  from  my  youth :  O 
forsake  me  not  in  this  last  period  of  my  life." 

To  a  person  who  commended  his  service,  in  the 
cause  of  religion,  he  replied  :  "  Ah,  my  friend,  you 
know  not  how  much  you  grieve  me  by  such  lan- 
guage. I  have  not  done  all  the  good  I  ought  to 
have  done  ;  and  that  little  benefit  which  the  church 
has  reaped  by  my  labors,  is  not  from  me,  but  from 
the  grace  of  God  which  is  in  me  ;  as  he  frequently 
produces  a  good  effect  with  a  weak  instrument.  I 
am  conscious  that  I  have  neglected  my  duty  in 
many  things,  and  offended  my  God ;  but  I  have 
loved  his  holy  truth,  and  I  hope  in  his  mercy.'* 

His  sickness  was  an  inflammation  of  the  lungs, 
with  an  ague,  which  returned  with  double  violence 
every  day  at  the  same  hour.  Recovering  from  one 
of  these  fits,  he  said :  "  My  God,  how  weary  am  I ! 
When  shall  I  rest  in  thy  bosom  ?  When  shall  I 
drink  of  the  river  of  thy  pleasures  ?  I  am  un- 
worthy of  it,  O  my  God  !  but  thou  art  glorified  by 


112  PETEK    DU     MOULIN. 

doing  good  to  the  unworthy.  It  is  not  for  them 
who  are  whole,  but  &r  those  who  are  sick,  that  thy 
Son,  the  great  Physician,  was  sent." 

A  little  before  his  death,  waking  about  midnight, 
he  said  to  a  person  who  attended  him,  "  I  shall  now 
soon  be  relieved.  I  am  going  to  my  Father  and 
my  God.  He  has  heard  me  indeed.  I  go  to  him 
with  confidence ;  for  he  has  arrayed  me  with  the 
robe  of  his  righteousness."  Soon  after  this,  he 
gently  expired ;  and  his  countenance  retained  the 
expression  of  joy. 


SECTION    VI. 
DR.  DONNE. 

JoETN  DoxxE,  an  excellent  English  poet,  was 
born  in  the  year  1573.  He  was  educated  in  his 
father's  house  till  the  eleventh  year  of  his  age, 
when  he  was  sent  to  the  university  of  Oxford ; 
where  it  was  observed  of  hira,  that  "  he  was  rather 
born  wise,  than  made  so  by  study."  He  travelled 
through  Italy  and  Spain  ;  where  he  made  many 
useful  observations,  and  became  well  acquainted 
with  the  languages  of  those  countries. 

After  his  return  to  England,  he  was  ^ohcited  to 
go  into  orders,  and  to  accept  of  a  benefice ;  but  at 
first,  he  prudently  declrned  this  offer  for  several 
reasons  ;  chiefly,  "  because  some  former  irregulari- 
ties of  his  hfe  had  been  too  notorious  not  to  expose 
him  to  the  censure  of  the  world  ;  and  would,  per- 
haps, bring  dishonor  upon  the  sacred  function." 
He  was,  however,  strenuously  urged  by  King 
James  the  First,  with  whom  he  was  a  great  favorite, 
to  enter  into  the  clerical  oflice :  and  after  having 
maturely  weighed  the  subject  and  employed  a  con- 
siderable time  in  improving  himself  by  close  study, 
he  complied  with  the  king's  desire.     He  was  or- 


114  DR.    DONNE. 

dained  deacon  and  priest  by  the  bishop  of  London  ; 
and  soon  after  was  appointed  one  of  the  king's  ^ 
chaplains.     On  the  royal  recommendation,  he  was 
presented  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity, 
by  the  university  of  Cambridge. 

Dr.  Donne  moved  in  a  large  circle  of  friends  and 
acquaintance.  He  was  much  visited  and  caressed  by 
the  nobility,  foreign  ministers,  and  other  persons  of 
distinction.  So  generally  was  he  beloved  and  es- 
teemed, that,  within  the  first  year  of  entering  into 
orders,  he  received  offers  of  fourteen  different  bene- 
fices, from  persons  of  rank.  He  preferred,  however, 
settling  in  London ;  and  was  made  preacher  of  Lin- 
coln's Inn.  About  this  time,  his  domestic  happiness 
suffered  a  severe  shock,  by  the  death  of  a  beloved  wife, 
who  left  him  with  a  young  family  of  seven  children. 

Some  years  after  this  event,  he  had  a  dangerous 
illness;  which  gave  occasion  to  a  work  entitled, 
*'  Devotions  upon  Emergent  Occasions  ;"  in  which 
the  fervor  of  his  soul  is  strongly  expressed.  He  re- 
covered from  this  indisposition  ;  and  lived  in  good 
health,  till  he  was  seized  with  a  fever  in  1630,  after 
which  he  began  to  decline.  Foreseeing  his  end,  he 
prepared  for  it  with  great  resignation.  He  was, 
however,  much  affected  with  the  retrospect  of  life : 
and  on  his  death-bed,  upon  taking  a  solemn  lea\  e 
of  his  friends,  he  made  this  striking  declaration  to 
them  :  "  I  repent  of  all  my  life,  except  that  part  of 
it,  which  I  spent  in  communion  with  God,  and  in 
doing  good." 


SECTION    YII. 
PHILIP   III.    KING    OF    SPAIN. 

Philip  the  Third  was  born  in  the  year  1577, 
and  succeeded  to  the  crown  of  Spain  in  the  21st 
year  of  his  age.  Of  an  inactive  disposition,  and 
averse  to  the  trouble  of  governing  a  great  king- 
dom, he  committed  the  whole  administration  of 
affairs  to  his  imiiister  and  favorite :  and  this  was 
the  source  of  many  calamities  to  his  subjects,  and 
of  perplexity  and  distress  to  liimself. 

When  this  king  drew  near  the  end  of  his  days, 
he  desired,  as  the  last  action  of  his  life,  to  see,  and 
to  bless  his  children.  He  told  the  prince,  his  suc- 
cessor, he  had  sent  for  him,  "  that  he  might  behold 
the  vanity  of  crowns  and  tiaras,  and  learn  to  pre- 
pare for  eternity."  He  kindly  addressed  all  his 
children,  gave  them  his  blessing,  and  dismissed 
them  with  fervent  prayers  for  their  happiness,  both 
here  and  hereafter. 

During  the  progress  of  his  disorder,  he  appeared 
to  be  greatly  disturbed  in  mind.  He  made  re- 
peated confessions  of  his  sins,  and  implored  Divine 
mercy.  He  said  to  those  around  him,  that  he  had 
often  been   guilty  of  dissimulation  in  matters  of 


116  PHILIP    III.    KING    OF    SPAIN. 

government.  He  deeply  regretted  his  indolence, 
and  blamed  himself  much  for  having  devolved  the 
cares  of  the  state  on  his  ministers.  When  he 
reflected,  that  he  had  not,  in  all  things,  made  the 
will  of  God  the  rule  of  his  government,  he  trem- 
bled, crying  out  at  diiferent  times :  "  Oh !  if  it 
should  please  heaven  to  prolong  my  life,  how  dif- 
ferent from  the  past  should  be  my  future  conduct !" 
Though  the  retrospect  of  his  life  filled  his  mind 
with  bitter  regret,  and  painful  apprehensions,  he 
expressed  a  hope  that,  through  the  merits  of  the 
Redeemer,  he  should  at  last  be  received  into  the 
mansions  of  the  blessed.  The  affecting  expressions 
of  his  repentance  and  devotion,  drew  tears  from 
the  eyes  of  those  who  surrounded  him.  The  priest 
who  attended  him,  unwilling  to  bruise  a  broken 
reed,  endeavored  to  cheer  and  compose  his  troubled 
mind,  by  consolatory  views  of  the  Divine  mercy, 
and  the  assurances  which  the  Gospel  affords,  of 
assistance  to  the  weak,  and  of  pardon  to  the  peni- 
tent. At  length,  the  alternate  tumult  of  hope  and 
fear,  which  had  so  greatly  agitated  his  mind,  sub- 
sided into  a  gentle  calm ;  and  he  died  peacefully,  in 
the  forty-third  year  of  his  life  and  the  twenty-third 
of  his  reign. 


SECTION    VIII. 
CATHARINK    BRETTEKQ. 

Cathaeine  Bketteeg  was  born  in  Cheshire, 
about  the  year  1580,  and  was  the  daughter  of  John 
Bruen,  Esq.,  of  Bruen  Stapleford.  From  a  child, 
she  was  much  employed  in  reading  the  Holy  Scrips 
tures,  which  she  found  of  great  use  and  comfort  to 
her  She  was  moderate  and  sober  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  good  things  of  this  life ;  and  carefully 
avoided  the  vain  pleasures  and  fashions,  in  which 
many  greatly  delight  themselves.  The  society  of 
religious  people  was  very  comfortable  and  pleasant 
to  her  ;  and  it  appears  that,  from  her  childhood  to 
the  end  of  her  days,  she  Avas  concerned  to  live  in 
the  fear  of  God,  and  to  w^alk  before  him  with  a  per- 
fect heart. 

This  excellent  woman,  in  the  beginning  of  her 
last  sickness,  was  permitted  to  labor  under  great 
exercise  and  conflict  of  spirit :  but  she  was  merci- 
fully supported  under  this  trial;  and  the  victory 
was,  in  due  time,  graciously  given  to  her. 

Her  dependence  on  the  Fountain  of  Wisdom  and 
Strength,  for  relief  from  this  trying  state  of  mind, 
is  evidenced  by  the  following  pious  and  fervent 


118  CATHARINE      BRETTERG. 

prayer:  "O  Lord  God  of  my  salvation,  help  my 
weakness;  plead  thou  my  cause,  O  God  of  Truth, 
for  in  thee  do  I  trust !  O  blessed  Saviour,  perfect 
the  vv'ork,  I  humbly  beseech  thee,  which  thou  hast 
begun  in  me." 

At  another  time,  after  she  had  experienced  deliv- 
erance from  this  conflict,  she  expressed  herself  in 
the  following  manner:  "Oh,  my  God,  blessed  be 
thy  name  for  evermore,  who  hast  shown  me  the 
path  of  life.  Thou  didst,  O  Lord,  hide  thy  face 
from  me  for  a  little  season,  but  with  everlasting 
mercy  thou  hast  had  compassion  on  me.  And  now, 
blessed  Lord,  thy  comforting  presence  is  come; 
yea.  Lord,  thou  hast  had  respect  to  thy  handmaid, 
and  art  come  with  fulness  of  joy  and  abundance  of 
consolation." 

When  she  was  near  her  end,  her  strength  and 
voice  being  very  feeble,  she  lifted  up  her  eyes,  and 
with  a  sweet  countenance,  and  still  voice,  said: 
"  My  warfare  is  accomplished,  and  my  iniquities 
are  pardoned.  Lord,  whom  have  I  in  heaven  but 
thee  ?  And  I  have  none  on  earth  besides  thee. 
My  flesh  faileth,  and  my  heart  also;  but  God  is 
the  strength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever. 
He  that  preserveth  Jacob,  and  defendeth  Israel,  is 
my  God,  and  will  guide  me  unto  death.  Direct 
me,  O  Lord  my  God,  and  keep  my  soul  in  safety." 

Soon  after  she  had  expressed  these  words,  she 
yielded  u^d  her  soul  in  peace  to  her  Creator. 


SECTION    IX. 
OXENSTIERN. 

OxENSTiERif,  chancellor  of  Sweden,  was  a  man 
of  great  abilities,  and  uncorrupted  integrity.  On 
the  accession  of  Christina  to  the  crown  of  Sweden, 
the  regency,  daring  her  minority,  devolved  upon 
him  and  four  others :  but  so  great  was  their  con- 
fidence in  Oxenstiern,  that  he  was  invested  with 
the  chief  management  of  aifairs ;  and  he  conducted 
himself  with  singular  wisdom  and  uprightness.  In 
the  great  schemes  which  he  formed  for  the  interest 
of  his  country,  he  was  very  successful ;  and  was 
highly  esteemed,  not  only  by  his  countrymen,  but 
by  the  most  eminent  persons  in  Europe. 

This  great  statesman  spent  a  part  of  his  time  in 
retirement,  from  which  he  derived  the  highest  ad- 
vantage. In  his  retreat,  he  was  visited  by  White- 
locke,° ambassador  from  England  to  Queen  Chris- 
tina; and  in  the  conclusion  of  their  discourse,  he 
made  the  following  very  interesting  observations  :— 
"I  have  seen  much,  and  enjoyed  much,  of  this 
world;  but  I  never  knew  hoAV  to  live  till  now.  I 
thank  my  good  God,  who  has  given  me  time  to 
know  him,  and  to  know  myself.     All  the  comfort  I 


120  OXENSTIERN. 

have,  and  wliich  is  more  than  the  whole  world  can 
give,  is,  feeling  the  good  Spirit  of  God  in  my  heart, 
and  reading  in  this  good  book,  (holding  up  the  Bi- 
ble,) that  came  from  it." 

This  enlightened  and  experienced  man  then  ad- 
dressed the  ambassador  as  follows :  "  You  are  now 
in  the  prime  of  your  age  and  vigor,  and  in  great 
favor  and  business :  but  all  this  will  leave  you,  and 
you  will  one  day  better  understand  and  relish  what 
I  say.  You  will  then  find,  that  there  is  more  wis- 
dom, truth,  comfort,  and  pleasure,  in  retiring,  and 
in  turning  your  heart  from  the  world,  to  the  good 
Spirit  of  God,  and  in  reading  the  Bible,  than  in  all 
the  courts,  and  favors  of  princes." 

The  preceding  account  is  given  by  William  Penu, 
who  says  he  had  it,  more  than  once,  from  the  am- 
bassador himself.  The  sentiments  expressed  by 
Oxenstiern  are  particularly  interesting,  if  we  reflect 
that  they  came  from  one  of  the  greatest  and  wisest 
men  of  tlie  age,  when  his  mind  and  body  were 
sound  and  vigorous,  and  when  he  was  best  able  to 
judge  of  human  life,  and  of  the  happiness  which  is 
to  be  derived  from  religion. 


SECTION    X. 
h:  u  c>  o    a  II  o  T  I  u  s . 

Hugo  Geotius  was  born  in  Holland,  in  the  year 
1583.  He  possessed  the  most  happy  disposition,  a 
profound  genius,  a  solid  judgment,  and  a  wonderful 
memory.  These  extraordinary  natural  endowments 
had  all  the  advantages  that  education  could  give 
them;  and  he  was  so  happy  as  to  find,  in  his  own 
lather,  a  pious  and  an  able  instructer,  who  formed 
his  mind  and  his  morals.  Before  he  was  fifteen,  he 
maintained  public  theses  in  mathematics,  philoso- 
])hy,  and  law,  with  the  highest  applause :  and  he 
ventured  to  form  plans  that  required  very  great 
learning,  but  which  he  executed  in  so  finished  a 
manner,  that  the  republic  of  letters  Avere  struck 
with  astonishment.  ^ 

He  strenuously  engaged  in  the  controversies  re^ 
specting  rehgious  opinions,  which,  at  that  time,  oc^ 
cupied  the  learned  men  of  the  Netherlands:  and 
the  part  which  he  took  in  those  disputes,  involved 
him  in  great  trouble  and  perplexity.  He  after, 
wards  became  the  queen  of  Sweden's  ambassador 
at  Paris.  This  dignity,  however,  was  not  agree- 
able to  a  man  of  his  turn  of  mind.  His  sentiments 
6 


122  HUGO     GK  OTIU  S. 

respecting  it,  are  contained  in  a  letter  which  he 
wrote  to  his  father  from  Paris.  "  I  am,"  says  he, 
"really  quite  tired  out  with  honors.  A  private  nn"' 
a  quiet  life  alone  has  charms  for  me ;  and  I  should 
be  very  happy,  if  I  were  in  a  situation,  in  which  I 
could  employ  myself  upon  works  of  piety,  and 
works  that  might  he  useful  to  posterity." 

He  had  the  highest  respect  for  religion  and  vir- 
tue, in  whatever  condition  of  life  they  were  found  : 
and  how  much  he  preferred  them  to  all  that  the 
world  could  hestow,  appears  from  the  following 
declaration:  "I  would  give  all  my  learning  and 
honor,  for  the  plain  integrity  of  John  Urick,  a  poor 
man  of  great  piety,  who  spent  eight  hours  of  his 
time  in  prayer,  eight  in  labor,  and  but  eight  in 
meals,  sleep,  and  other  necessaries." 

To  one  who  admired  his  great  industry,  he  re- 
turned an  answer  to  this  effect :  "  Ah  !  I  have 
consumed  much  of  my  life,  in  laboriously  doing 
nothing."  And  to  another  who  enquired  of  him, 
what  course  of  life  he  would  advise  him  to  take,  he 
solemnly  answered,  "  Be  serious." 

In  his  last  sickness,  which  was  of  short  duration, 
he  appears  to  have  been  tranquil,  and  resigned  to 
the  will  of  God.  He  expressed  his  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ,  and  declared  that  his  hope  rested  upon  him. 
To  one  who  mentioned  to  him  the  publican  spoken 
of  in  the  gospel,  he  humbly  replied,  "I  am  that 
publican  ;"  and  soon  after  expired. 

Grotius,  notwithstanding  the  embassies  and  other 


HUGO     G  11  O  T  I  u  s .  123 

public  business  in  which  he  was  employed,  com- 
posed a  great  number  of  excellent  and  much  ad- 
mired works ;  the  principal  of  which  are,  "  A 
Treatise  of  the  Rights  of  Peace  and  AVar  ;'♦  "  A 
Treatise  on  the  Truth  of  the  Christian  Religion ;" 
"Commentaries  on  the  Holy  Scriptures;"  and 
*'The  History  and  Annals  of  Holland."  He  ap- 
pears to  liave  labored  much  for  the  benefit  of  his 
fellow- creatures;  and  we  trust  that  his  expressions 
of  regret,  respecting  the  employment  of  his  time, 
proceeded  from  the  humble  state  of  his  mind,  and 
not  from  the  consciousness  of  having  neglected  any 
important  duty  of  life. 

When  great  talents  and  learning  are,  from  pure 
motives,  and  in  true  humility,  consecrated  to  the 
service  of  truth  and  religion,  they  become  accept- 
able offerings  to  our  Divine  Benefactor,  and  often 
eminently  promote  the  good  of  mankind.  But 
when  we  misapply  these  qualifications,  suffer  them 
to  nourish  pride  and  vanity,  or  attribute  to  them 
an  efficacy  in  producing  virtue  and  happiness  that 
does  not  necessarily  belong  to  them ;  they  occasion 
an  unhappy  waste  of  our  time,  and  lay  the  founda- 
tion for  bitter  regret  in  the  winding  np  of  life. 

The  worth  and  importance  of  those  advantages 
are  lamentably  overrated,  if  our  estimation  of  them 
is  so  high,  and  our  pursuit  so  ardent,  as  to  dispose 
lis  to  undervalue,  or  disregard  that  most  solemn 
injunction  of  our  Lord:  "Seek  ye,  first,"  (early, 
and  in  preference  to  all  other  things,)  "  the  Idng- 


124  HUGO     GKOTIUS. 

Join  of  God  and  his  righteousness  :"  remembering 
that  this  is  "  the  one  thing  needful." 

Whilst  the  mind  is  occupied  with  the  variety 
and  intricacy  of  speculation  and  literary  engage- 
ments, and  the  heart  elated  with  the  flattering  dis- 
tinctions which  tliey  produce,  we  may  not  suffi- 
ciently perceive  the  importance  of  this  Divine 
injunction :  but  when  the  close  of  our  day  ap- 
proaches, and  the  retrospect  of  life  is  made ;  when 
the  ardor  of  pursuit  has  abated,  and  the  dekisions 
of  vanity  and  passion  are  at  an  end  ;  we  shall  form 
a  true  estimate  of  the  worth  of  all  sublunary  at- 
tainments and  possessions.  We  shall  then,  if  not 
before,  perceive  that,  to  have  our  conversation  in 
the  vforld  with  simplicity  and  uprightness  ;  to  re- 
ceive the  truths  of  the  gospel  with  meekness  and 
cordiality  ;  to  be  pure  and  humble  in  heart ;  to  love 
our  neighbors  as  ourselves,  and  God  above  all 
things ;  and,  by  these  means,  to  secure  an  incor- 
ruptible and  immortal  inheritance  ;  are  attainments 
of  infinitely  greater  moment  than  all  the  accom- 
plishments of  mind  and  body,  and  all  the  posses- 
sions and  honors  that  this  world  can  bestow. 

As  it  is,  therefore,  our  highest  wisdom,  may  it 
also  be  our  greatest  concern,  seasonably  to  antici- 
pate these  reflections ;  and  so  to  temper  and  regu- 
late all  our  studies,  and  all  the  engagements  of  this 
life,  that  they  may  coincide  with  and  promote  the 
great  end  of  our  being  I 


SECTION    XI, 
JOHN     SKLDEN. 

John  Seldex,  a  native  of  Sussex,  was  born  in 
the  year  1584.  He  was  profoundly  learned,  and 
skilled  in  the  Hebrew  and  oriental  languages,  be- 
yond any  man  of  his  time.  Grotius  styles  him  the 
glory  of  the  English  nation.  His  mind  also  was  as 
great  as  his  learning.  He  was  hosj^itable,  generous, 
and  charitable ;  he  took  great  delight  in  doing 
good,  and  in  communicating  his  knowledge :  above 
all,  he  was  a  sincere  and  eminent  Christian. 

The  earl  of  Clarendon,  who  was  the  intimate 
friend  of  Selden,  speaks  of  him  thus :  "  Mr.  Selden 
was  a  person,  whom  no  character  can  flatter,  or 
transmit  in  any  expressions  equal  to  his  merit  and 
virtue.  He  was  of  such  stupendous  learning,  in  all 
kinds  and  in  all  languages,  that  a  man  would  have 
thought  he  had  been  entirely  conversant  among 
books,  and  had  never  spent  an  hour  but  in  reading 
or  writing :  yet  his  humanity,  courtesy,  and  afta- 
bility,  were  such,  that  he  would  have  been  thought 
to  have  been  bred  in  the  best  courts.  His  good 
nature,  charity,  and  delight  in  doing  good,  and  in 
communicating  all  he  knew,  exceeded  that  breed- 


126  JOHN      SEL  DEN. 

ing.  Ill  his  conversation,  he  was  the  most  clear 
discourse!',  and  had  the  best  faculty  in  making  hard 
things  easy,  and  i^resent  to  the  understanding,  of 
any  man  that  hath  been  knoAvn." 

This  eminent  scholar  and  Christian,  when  he  w^as 
near  the  end  of  his  days,  declared,  in  a  conference 
with  Archbishop  Usher,  that,  "  though  he  had  been 
very  laborious  in  his  literary  enquiries,  and  had 
possessed  himself  of  a  great  number  of  valuable 
books  and  manuscripts,  upon  all  ancient  subjects ; 
yet  he  could  rest  the  happiness  of  his  soul  on  none 
of  them,  except  the  Holy  Scriptures."  He  said  that 
the  following  j^assage,  in  a  very  particular  manner, 
affected  his  mind:  "The  Grace  of  God,  which 
bringeth  salvation,  hath  appeared  unto  all  men; 
teaching  us,  that  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  god- 
ly, in  this  present  Avorld ;  looking  for  that  blessed 
hope  and  glorious  appearing  of  the  great  God,  and 
our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ ;  who  gave  himself  for  us, 
that  he  might  redeem  us  fi-om  all  iniquity,  and  pu- 
rify unto  himself  a  peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good 
works."  This  is,  indeed,  a  most  important  and 
interesting  declaration.  It  sets  forth  the  universal 
love  of  God ;  the  various  duties  of  men,  with  the 
means  of  performing  them  ;  the  redemption  from 
sin  through  Jesus  Christ ;  and  a  glorious  reward  to 
the  faithful  hereafter. 


SECTION    XII. 

CARDINAL     RICHELIEU. 

Richelieu,  an  eminent  cardinal  and  minister  of 
state  in  France,  was  born  of  a  noble  family  at  the 
castle  of  Richelieu,  in  the  year  1585.  Being  a  man 
of  prodigious  capacity,  and  of  a  restless  and  in- 
satiable ambition,  he  formed  vast  designs,  which 
made  his  life  a  series  of  agitations  and  perplexities. 
He  found  himself  frequently  under  the  necessity  of 
opposing  the  grandees  of  the  kingdom,  the  royal 
family,  the  whole  house  of  Austria,  and  even  Louis 
XIII.  himself 

Amidst  his  greatest  and  most  arduous  concerns, 
he  did  not  neglect  to  cultivate  Uterature,  and  to 
show  himself  a  patron  of  men  of  letters.  He  ma- 
nifested a  particular  regard  for  persons  of  the  reli- 
crious  orders ;  and  advanced  those  who  were  most 
remarkable  for  their  abilities  and  virtues.  He  made 
many  friends,  and  many  enemies ;  but  his  consum- 
mate policy  enabled  him  to  triumph  over  all  the 
machinations  of  his  opponents. 

When  this  great  statesman  approached  the  con- 
clusion of  his  time,  he  became  very  serious ;  and 
acknowledged  to  Peter  du  Moulin,  the  celebrated 


128  CARDINAL     KICIIELIEU. 

French  protestant,  that  he  had  often  been  hurried 
into  measures  which  his  conscience  disapproved. 
"  That  he  had  been  urged  into  many  irregularities, 
by  what  is  called  state  policy ;  that  as  he  could  not 
tell  how  to  satisfy  his  conscience  for  these  devia- 
tions from  rectitude,  he  had  many  temptations  to 
disbelieve  the  existence  of  a  God,  a  future  state, 
and  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  and,  by  these 
means,  to  quiet  the  upbraidings  of  his  mind.  But 
in  vain.  So  strong  was  the  idea  of  God  in  his  soul ; 
so  clear  the  impression  of  him  upon  the  frame  of 
the  world  ;  so  unanimous  the  consent  of  mankind ; 
and  so  powerful  the  convictions  of  his  own  con- 
science ;  that  he  could  not  avoid  feeling  the  neces- 
sity of  admitting  a  Supreme  Being,  and  a  future 
state  :  and  he  wished  to  live  as  one  that  must  die  ; 
and  to  die,  as  one  that  must  live  for  ever." 

The  serious  state  of  his  mind  increased,  as  he 
drew  near  his  last  hour.  A  person  who  came  to 
see  him,  enquired,  "  why  he  was  so  sad :"  the  car- 
dinal replied :  "  The  soul  is  a  serious  thing :  it 
must  either  be  sad  here  for  a  moment,  or  be  sad 
for  ever." 

He  died  in  1642,  amidst  storms  and  perils,  be- 
fore he  had  completed  his  designs;  leaving  behind 
him  a  name,  splendid  indeed,  but,  by  no  means, 
dear  and  venerable. 


SECTION    XIII. 

LORD     HARRINaTON. 

John,  Lord  Harrixgtox,  was  the  son  of  that 
Lord  Harrington  to  whom  King  James  the  First 
committed  the  education  of  his  eklest  dan[j:hter, 
the  princess  Elizabeth. 

He  possessed  excellent  natural  endowments,  and 
a  considerable  stock  of  useful  learnmg;  but  the 
great  concern  of  his  mind  was,  to  become  learned 
in  the  school  of  Christ,  and  to  provide  for  an  im- 
mortal inheritance.  He  manifested  a  principle  of 
real  cliarity  in  his  heart,  by  his  love  to  all  who  were 
truly  religious.  And  so  great  was  his  compassion 
for  his  fellow-creatures  in  necessity,  that  he  gave 
the  tenth  part  of  his  yearly  income  to  charitable 
uses. 

At  the  beginning  of  his  last  sickness,  he  strong- 
ly apprehended  that  he  should  not  recover;  and 
therefore  calmly  prepared  for  death.  He  declared 
his  faith  in  Christ,  and  his  undoubted  hope  of  sal- 
vation by  him :  and  said,  with  much  cheerfulness, 
"  I  fear  not  death,  in  what  shape  soever  it  may  as- 
sail rae." 

Many  excellent  things  were  expressed  by  him, 
6* 


130  LORD      HAERINGTON. 

during  his  illness.  He  greatly  desired  to  depart 
this  Ufe,  that  he  might  be  at  home  with  his  Lord 
and  Saviour.  About  two  hours  before  his  death  he 
declared,  that  "  he  still  felt  the  comfort  and  joys  of 
assured  salvation,  by  Christ  Jesus."  And  when 
the  time  of  his  departure  was  come,  he  said,  "  O, 
that  joy  !  O,  my  God  !  when  shall  I  be  with  thee  ?" 
And  with  the  like  words,  expressive  of  a  tender, 
heavenly  frame  of  mind,  he  peacefully  lexpired,  in 
the  twenty-third  year  of  his  age. 


SECTION    XIV. 
SALMASIUS. 

Salmasits,  of  an  ancient  and  noble  family  in 
France,  was  born  in  the  year  1596.  He  was  a  man 
of  very  extraordinary  abilities,  and  profound  erudi- 
tion. He  Avas  knowing  in  almost  every  thing ;  in 
school  divinity,  in  law,  in  philosophy,  in  criticism  ; 
and  he  was  so  consummate  a  linguist,  that  there 
was  scarcely  a  language  in  which  he  had  not  at- 
tained a  considerable  proficiency.  He  was  perfect 
in  Greek  and  Latin  :  he  understood  the  Hebrew, 
Arabic,  Persic,  Egyptian,  Chinese,  ifcc,  and  he  was 
well  acquainted  with  all  the  European  languages. 

His  works  are  very  numerous,  and  on  various 
subjects.  They  gained  him  as  much  fame  as  strong 
powers  and  a  vast  erudition  can  procure.  His 
name  was  sounded  throughout  Europe  ;  and  he  had 
great  offers  from  foreign  princes,  and  nniversities. 
The  Venetians  thought  his  residence  among  them 
would  be  such  an  honor,  that  they  offered  him  a 
prodigious  stipend  :  the  university  of  Oxford  made 
some^'attempts  to  get  him  into  England  ;  and  the 
pope  invited  him  to  settle  at  Rome.  Cardinal 
Richelieu  used  all  possible  means  to  detaiii  him  in 


132  ^SALMASIUS. 

France,  even  desiring  him  to  make  his  own  terms ; 
and  Christina,  queen  of  Sweden,  showed  him  ex- 
traordinary marks  of  esteem  and  regard. 

When  this  celebrated  man  arrived  at  the  even- 
ing of  Hfe,  and  found  leisure  to  reflect  seriously  on 
the  great  end  of  his  being,  he  acknowledged  that 
he  had  too  much,  and  too  earnestly,  engaged  in  li- 
terary pursuits  ;  and  ha,d  greatly  overlooked  those 
objects  in  which  true  and  solid  happiness  consists. 
"  Oh  !"  said  he,  "  I  have  lost  an  immense  portion  of 
time  ;  time,  that  most  precious  thing  in  the  world ! 
Had  I  but  one  year  more,  it  should  be  spent  in 
studying  David's  psalms,  and  Paul's  epistles." 
*'  Oh  !  sirs,"  said  he  to  those  about  him,  "  mind 
the  world  less,  and  God  more.  '  The  fear  of  the 
Lord,  that  is  wisdom ;  and  to  depart  from  evil, 
that  is  understanding.' " 


CHAPTER    IV. 


Cardii^al  Mazarine — Bulstrode  "Whitelocke — Anna  Ma* 

RIA  SCHURMAN — SiR  MATTHEW  HaLE — Du  EENTI — PRINCESS 

Elizabeth — "William  Mompesson — Admiral  Penn. 


SECTION    I. 

CARDINAL     MAZARINE. 

Julius  Mazapjxe,  a  famous  cardinal  and  prime 
minister  of  France,  was  born  in  the  kingdom  of 
Naples,  in  the  year  1602.  The  greatness  of  his 
abiUties  was  conspicuous,  even  in  his  early  years ; 
and  he  had  the  advantage  of  being  instructed  by 
a  very  able  tutor.  He  studied  the  interests  of  the 
various  states  in  Italy,  and  of  the  kingdoms  of 
France  and  Spain ;  and  became  profoundly  skilled 
in  politics,  it  was  through  the  interest  of  Cardinal 
Richelieu,  that  he  was  introduced  into  the  French 
cabinet.  That  cardinal  made  him  one  of  the  exe- 
cutors of  his  will ;  and  during  the  minority  of 
Louis  XIV.  he  had  the  charge  of  public  aifuirs. 

His  high  station  and  great  abilities,  excited  the 
envy  of  the  nobility  of  France;  and  this  occasioned 


134  CARDINAL     MAZAEINE. 

a  civil  war  that  continued  several  years.  Mazarine 
M^as,  at  last,  forced  to  retire ;  a  price  was  set  on  his 
head  ;  and  even  his  fine  library  was  sold.  But  this 
disgrace  did  not  long  continue.  Mazarine  returned 
to  the  court  with  more  honor  than  he  had  ever  en- 
joyed; and  conducted  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom 
with  so  much  ability  and  success,  that  he  obtained 
the  French  king's  most  unreserved  confidence.  He 
possessed,  in  an  eminent  degree,  the  power  of  dis- 
covering the  dispositions  and  views  of  men ;  and 
of  assuming  a  character  adapted  to  circumstances. 

He  was  a  man  of  great  ambition,  and  j^ursued 
with  ardor  the  chase  of  worldly  honors.  But,  a 
short  time  before  his  death,  he  perceived  the  vanity 
of  his  pursuit,  and  lamented  the  misapplication  of 
his  time  and  talents.  He  was  greatly  affected  with 
the  prospect  of  his  dissolution,  and  the  uncertainty 
of  his  future  condition.  This  made  him  cry  out : 
"  Oh,  my  poor  soul !  what  will  become  of  thee  ? 
Whither  wilt  thou  go  ?" 

To  the  queen  dowager  of  France,  who  came  to 
visit  him  in  his  illness,  and  who  had  been  his  friend 
at  court,  he  expressed  himself  in  these  terms: 
"  Madam,  your  favors  have  undone  me.  Were  I 
to  live  again,  I  would  be  a  capuchin,  rather  than  a 
courtier." 


SECTIOX    II. 
BULSTRODE    WHITKLOCKE. 

BuLSTEODE  Whitelocke  was  descended  from  a 
good  family  in  Berkshire,  and  born  in  the  year 
1605.  He  possessed  strong  mental  powers,  which 
were  highly  improved  by  education,  study,  and 
business.  He  was  advanced  to  several  stations  of 
the  greatest  trust  and  importance,  both  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  acquitted  himself  in  them  all  to 
the  satisfaction  of  his  employers.  Whilst  he  was 
ambassador  at  the  court  of  Sweden,  he  was  par- 
ticularly honored  by  Queen  Christina. 

In  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  he  withdrew  from 
public  affairs,  and  resided  in  the  country  till  his 
death.  In  his  retirement,  he  was  visited  by  a 
friend,  to  whom,  after  making  many  serious  ob- 
servations, he  expressed  himself  in  the  following 
manner  :  "  I  have  ever  thought  there  has  been  one 
true  religion  in  the  world  ;  and  that  is  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  hearts  and  souls  of  men. 
There  have  been,  indeed,  many  dispensations  of 
God,  suited  to  his  own  wise  ends,  and  adapted  to 
the  low  and  uncertain  state  of  man  in  the  world. 
But  the  old  world  had  the   Spirit  of  God,  for  it 


136  BULSTRODE     WIIITELOCKE. 

strove  with  them  ;  and  the  new  world  has  had  the 
Spirit  of  God,  both  Jew  and  Gentile ;  and  it  strives 
with  all :  and  they  who  have  been  led  by  it,  have 
been  the  good  people  in  every  dispensation  of  God 
to  mankind.  I  myself  must  say,  that  I  have  felt  it 
from  a  child  convincing  me  of  my  evil  and  vanity. 
It  has  often  given  me  a  true  measure  of  this  poor 
world,  and  some  taste  of  Divine  things ;  and  it  is 
my  grief  that  I  did  not  earlier  apply  my  soul  to  it. 
I  can  say,  that,  since  my  retirement  from  the  great- 
ness and  hurries  of  the  world,  I  have  felt  something 
of  the  work  and  comfort  of  it ;  and  I  am  persuaded 
that  it  is  both  ready  and  able  to  instruct,  and  lead, 
and  preserve,  those  who  will  humbly  and  sincerely 
regard  it.  So  that  my  religion  is,  the  good  Spirit 
of  God  in  my  heart;  I  mean,  what  that  has 
wrought  in  me,  and  for  me." 


SECTION    III. 

ANNA    MARIA    SCHURMAN. 

Anna  Maria  Sciiurman,  of  a  noble  protestant 
family  in  Germany,  was  born  at  Cologne,  in  the 
year  1607.  The  powers  of  her  mind  were  very 
great,  and  she  employed  them  in  the  acquisition  of 
a  large  stock  of  literature.  She  was  skilled  in 
many  languages  ;  and  the  Latin,  Greek,  and 
Hebrew  were  so  famihar  to  her,  that  she  not  only 
wrote,  but  spoke  them  fluently,  to  the  surprise  of 
the  most  learned  men.  She  had  also  a  competent 
knowledge  of  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences ;  and 
was  held  in  high  reputation  by  several  persons  of 
the  greatest  learning  in  her  time. 

In  the  latter  part  of  her  life,  the  religious  temper 
of  her  mind  increasing,  she  set  little  value  on  all 
the  honor  she  had  acquired,  by  her  extraordinary  ac- 
complishments ;  and  became  zealously  concerned  to 
obtain  the  favor  of  God  as  the  richest  treasure  and 
the  highest  of  all  enjoyments.  After  this  change 
of  views  and  sentiments,  she  wrote  an  account 
of  her  life  in  Latin ;  in  which  she  mentions  some  re- 
markable circumstances  concerning  herself,  and  sev- 
eral devout  persons  with  whom  she  was  connected. 


138  ANNA     MAKIA    SC  HUE  MAN. 

During  her  last  illness,  she  declared  her  full 
satisfaction  in  the  religious  choice  she  had  made. 
After  suiFering  much  from  the  disorder,  she  ex- 
pressed herself  in  the  following  manner  :  "  I  have 
proceeded  one  step  further  towards  eternity,  and  if 
the  Lord  shall  please  to  increase  my  pains,  it  w^ill 
be  no  cause  of  sorrow :  the  will  of  my  God  is  all  to 
me ;  I  follow  him.  How  good  is  it  to  be  in  the 
hands  of  God  !  But  it  will  be  still  better  for  me, 
when  I  shall  enjoy  more  full  communion  with  him, 
among  the  children  of  God,  in  the  abodes  of  the 
blessed.  I  have  nothing  more  to  desire  in  this 
world." 

In  the  last  night  of  her  life,  she  said  to  one  who 
watched  with  her :  "  I  am  almost  continually  im- 
pressed with  a  sentiment  of  this  nature  :  '  A  Chris- 
tian must  suffer.'  This  sentiment  comforts  me  in 
my  pains ;  and  supports  me  that  I  faint  not.  O 
how  good  it  is  to  remain  in  silence  and  patience 
before  God.  My  most  beneficent  Father  has  not 
dealt  with  me,  as  with  his  servant  Job,  whose 
friends  were  with  him  seven  days  in  silence,  and 
then  addressed  him  with  bitter  words.  But  how 
sweet  and  comfortable  are  the  impressions  which  I 
feel !» 


SECTION    IV. 

SIK    MATTHEW    HALE. 

SiK  Matthew  Hale,  lord  chief  justice  of 
England,  was  born  in  Gloucestershire,  in  the  year 
1609.  Before  he  was  six  years  old,  he  lost  both  his 
parents  :  but  by  the  care  of  a  judicious  guardian, 
great  attention  was  paid  to  his  education.  When 
he  had  completed  his  studies  at  Oxford,  he  quitted 
the  university,  with  an  intention  of  going  into  the 
army;  but,  on  the  persuasion  of  Sergeant  Glanvill, 
he  entered  at  Lincoln's  Inn;  and,  with  great  vigor, 
and  almost  unexampled  application,  bent  his  mind 
to  the  studies  of  his  profession. 

In  early  life,  he  was  fond  of  company,  and  fell 
into  many  levities  and  extravagances.  But  this 
propensity  and  conduct  were  corrected  by  a  cir- 
cumstance, that  made  a  considerable  impression  on 
his  mind,  during  the  rest  of  his  life.  Being  one 
day  in  company  with  other  young  men,  one  of  the 
party,  through  excess  of  wine,  fell  down,  appar- 
ently dead  at  their  feet.  Young  Hale  was  so 
affected  on  this  occasion,  that  he  immediately  re- 
tired to  another  room  ;  and,  shutting  the  door,  fell 
on  his  knees,  and  prayed  earnestly  to  God  that  his 


140  SIR    MATTHEW    HALE. 

friend  might  be  restored  to  life,  and  that  he  hini^ 
self  might  be  pardoned  for  having  given  counten- 
ance to  so  much  excess.  At  the  same  time,  he 
made  a  solemn  vow,  that  he  would  never  again 
keep  company  in  that  manner,  nor  "  drink  a 
health,"  while  he  lived.  His  friend  recovered,  and 
Hale  religiously  observed  his  vow. 

After  this  event,  there  was  an  entire  change  in 
his  disposition :  he  forsook  all  dissipated  company, 
and  was  careful  to  divide  his  time  between  the 
duties  of  religion,  and  the  studies  of  his  profession. 
He  became  remarkable  for  a  grave  and  exemplary 
deportment,  great  moderation  of  temper,  and  a 
rehgious  tenderness  of  spirit ;  and  these  virtues  ap- 
pear to  have  accompanied  him  through  the  whole 
of  his  life. 

The  following  extract  from  a  diary  which  he 
regularly  kept,  shows  the  piety  of  his  mind,  and 
how  solicitous  he  was  to  make  the  best  use  of  his 
time: 

MORNING. 

1.  To  lift  up  the  heart  to  God  in  thankfulness  for 
renewing  my  life. 

2.  To  renew  my  covenant  with  God  in  Christ. 
First,  by  renewed  acts  of  faith  receiving  Christ, 
and  rejoicing  in  the  height  of  that  relation :  second- 
ly, by  resolving  to  be  one  of  his  people,  and  doing 
him  allegiance. 

3.  Adoration  and  prayer. 


SIR  MATTHEW  HALE.        141 
DAY  EMPLOYMENT. 

There  must  be  an  employment  of  two  kinds. 

1,  Our  ordinary  calling,  to  serve  God  in  it.-  It 
is  a  service  to  Christ,  though  ever  so  mean.  Hero 
observe  faithfulness,  diligence,  cheerfulness.  Xot 
to  overcharge  myself  with  more  business  than  I 
can  bear. 

2.  Our  spiritual  employments.  Mingle  somewhat 
of  God's  immediate  service  in  the  day. 

IF    ALONE. 

1.  Bew^are  of  wandering,  vain,  sensual  thoughts: 
fly  from  thyself  rather  than  entertain  these. 

2.  Let  thy  solitary  thoughts  be  profitable.  View 
the  evidences  of  thy  salvation,  the  state  of  thy  soul, 
the  coming  of  Christ,  and  thy  own  mortality :  this 
will  make  thee  humble  and  watchful. 

COMPANY. 

Do  good  to  them.  Use  God's  name  reverently. 
Beware  of  leaving  an  ill  impression,  or  ill  exam- 
ple. Receive  good  from  them,  if  they  are  more 
knowing. 

E  VENIN  G. 

Cast  up  the  accounts  of  the  day.  If  there  was 
au^rht  amiss,  beg  pardon ;  resolve  to  be  more  vigi- 


142  SIR     MATTHEW     HALE. 

lant.     If  thou  hast  done  well,  bless  the  mercy  and 
grace  of  God,  which  have  su^^ported  thee. 

Thus  did  this  excellent  man  occupy  himself  in 
the  service  of  God,  at  the  same  time  that  he  was 
making  great  progress  in  the  study  of  the  sciences, 
and  particularly  in  that  of  the  law,  in  which  he 
became  a  greater  proficient  than  any  of  his  contem- 
poraries. 

In  the  duties  of  his  office  as  a  judge,  he  con- 
ducted himself  with  the  greatest  integrity.  The 
motives  which  influenced  him  to  the  faithful  dis- 
charge of  these  duties,  were  founded  on  the  only 
firm  basis — that  of  religion.  This  will  appear 
by  an  extract  from  one  of  his  paj^ers,  entitled 
"Things  to  be  had  in  continual  remembrance," 
Among  a  numerous  list  of  these,  are  the  following : 

"That,  in  the  administration  of  justice,  I  am  in- 
trusted for  God,  the  king,  and  the  country:  and 
therefore  that  it  be  done  uprightly,  deliberately, 
resolutely. 

"That  I  rest  not  upon  my  own  direction  and 
strength ;  but  implore  and  rest  upon  the  direction 
and  strength  of  God. 

"That,  in  the  execution  of  justice,  I  carefully  lay 
aside  my  own  passions,  and  give  not  way  to  them, 
however  jorovoked. 

"That  I  be  not  biased  with  compassion  to  the 
poor,  or  favor  to  the  rich,  in  point  of  justice. 

"  That  popular  or  court  applause  or  dislike,  have 


SIR     MATTHEW     HALE.  143 

no  influence  in  anything  I  do  in  the  distribution  of 
justice. 

"  That  I  be  not  solicitous  about  what  men  thinly 
or  say,  so  long  as  I  keep  myself  exactly  according 
to  the  rules  of  justice." 

The  writings  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  on  religious 
subjects,  particularly  his  "  Contemplations  Moral 
and  Divine,"  manifest  a  truly  humble  frame  of 
mind ;  and  contain  a  seriousness  and  fervency,  well 
adapted  to  excite  kindred  emotions  in  the  breast  of 
the  reader.  We  shall  select  a  few  of  these,  as  testi- 
monies which  this  great  and  good  man  bore  to  the 
power  and  efficacy  of  religion,  as  the  guide,  sujd* 
port,  and  comfort  of  our  lives. 

"True  religion,"  says  he,  "teaches  the  soul  a 
high  veneration  for  Almighty  God ;  a  sincere  and 
upright  walking,  as  in  the  presence  of  the  invisible, 
all-seeing  God. 

"It  makes  a  man  truly  love,  honor,  and  obey 
him,  and  therefore  careful  to  know  what  his  will  is. 

"  It  renders  the  heart  highly  thankful  to  him,  as 
his  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Benefactor. 

"  It  makes  a  man  entirely  depend  on  him,  seek 
him  for  guidance,  direction,  and  protection,  and  sub- 
mit to  his  will  with  patience  and  resignation  of  soul. 

"It  gives  the  law,  not  only  to  his  words  and 
actions,  but  to  his  very  thoughts  and  purposes ;  so 
tluit  he  dares  not  entertain  any  which  are  unbe- 
coming the  presence  of  that  God,  by  whom  all  our 
thoughts  are  legible. 


144  SIR     MATTHEW      HALE. 

"  It  crushes  all  pride  and  haughtiness,  both  in  a 
man's  heart  and  carriage,  and  gives  him  an  humble 
state  of  mind  before  God  and  men. 

"  It  regulates  the  j)assions,  and  brings  them  into 
due  moderation. 

"  It  gives  a  man  a  right  estimate  Ox  this  j^resent 
world,  and  sets  his  heart  and  hopes  above  it ;  so 
that  he  never  loves  it  more  than  it  deserves. 

"It  makes  the  wealth,  and  the  glory  of  this 
world,  high  places,  and  great  preferments,  but  of 
little  consequence  to  him ;  so  that  he  is  neither 
covetous,  nor  ambitious,  nor  over- solicitous,  con- 
cerning the  advantages  of  them. 

"  It  makes  him  value  the  love  of  God  and  the 
peace  of  his  own  conscience,  above  all  the  wealth 
and  honor  in  the  Avorld,  and  to  be  very  diligent  in 
preserving  them. 

"He  performs  all  his  duties  to  God  with  sin- 
cerity and  constancy :  and,  whilst  he  lives  on  earth, 
his  conversation,  his  hope,  his  treasures,  are  in 
heaven ;  and  he  endeavors  to  walk  suitably  to  such 
a  hope." 

His  sentiments,  respecting  the  inward  direction 
and  assistance  of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  the  soul,  and 
his  Holy  Presence  there^  are  deeply  interesting. 

"They  who  truly  fear  God,  have  a  secret  gui- 
dance from  a  higher  Wisdom  than  what  is  barely 
human,  namely,  the  Spirit  of  truth  and  wisdom ; 
which  does  really,  though  secretly,  prevent  and 
direct  them.     Any  man  that  sincerely  and  truly 


SIP.      MATTUKW      HALE.  145 

fears  Almighty  God,  and  calls  and  relies  upon  him 
for  his  direction,  has  it  as  really  as-  a  son  has  the 
counsel  and  direction  of  his  father;  and  though  the 
voice  is  not  audible,  yet  it  is  equally  as  real,  as  if  a 
man  heard  a  voice  saying,  '  This  is  the  way,  walk 
in  it.' 

"  Though  this  secret  direction  of  Almighty  God 
is  principally  seen  in  matters  relating  to  the  good 
of  the  soul,  yet,  in  the  great  and  momentous  con- 
cerns of  this  life,  a  good  man,  fearing  God  and  beg- 
ging his  direction,  will  very  often,  if  not  at  all  times, 
find  it.  I  can  call  my  own  experience  to  witness, 
that,  even  in  the  external  actions,  occurrences,  and 
incidents  of  my  whole  life,  I  have  never  been  dis- 
appointed of  the  best  direction,  when  I  have,,  in 
humility,  and  a  sense  of  my  own  deficiency,  sin- 
cerely implored  it. 

"God  sees  the  most  secret  chambers  of  our 
hearts.  All  the  guests  that  are  there,  even  our 
most  intimate  thoughts  and  purposes,  and  much 
more  our  most  retired  actions,  are  as  legible  to 
him,  as  if  they  were  graved  in  brass. 

"Are  our  hearts  solicited  by  any  object — by  our- 
selves or  by  the  persuasions  of  others,  or  by  the 
suggestions  of  Satan  —  to  impure  speculations  or 
sinful  resolutions,  to  proud  or  arrogant  conceptions 
of  ourselves,  to  revengeful,  uncharitable,  or  for- 
bidden desires,  to  vain  and  unprofitable  imagina- 
tions ;  let  us  reflect  that  these  thouglits  (which 
uven  natural  modesty  or  prudence,  would  shame 
7 


146  BIE     MATTHEW     HALE, 

ns  to  express  before  mortal  man)  are  all  naked  and 
manifest  before  the  great  and  holy  God.  And  dare 
we  entertain  such  guests  where  our  Creator  is 
i^resent  ?  in  that  place  which  the  Lord  of  Heaven 
is  pleased,  most  justly  and  most  mercifully  to  claim 
as  his  own  ?  Consider,  it  is  our  Judge  that  sees 
us :  it  is  the  great  Creator,  before  whom  the  angels 
of  heaven  veil  their  faces,  not  being  able  to  behold 
his  glory  :  and,  which  is  more  than  all  this  to  an 
ingenuous  nature,  it  is  he  to  whom  we  owe  our- 
selves and  all  that  we  are,  he  to  whom  we  have 
given  up  our  names,  and  who  has  purchased  our 
souls  from  destruction  by  the  blood  of  his  Son. 

"  Again  :  Is  the  God  of  heaven  an  eyewitness  of 
our  conduct,  when  either  by  ourselves,  or  by 
others,  we  are  solicited  to  evil  ? — let  us  take  cour- 
age to  resist  this  temptation,  because  our  Creator 
sees  us ;  because  our  Lord  stands  by,  to  observe, 
and  to  reward  us,  in  our  opposition.  To  be  able  to 
hear,  in  our  own  consciences,  the  approving  voice 
of  the  Lord  of  heaven  beholding  us,  and  saying, 
*  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,'  would  be 
enough  to  outweigh  all  our  obedience,  though  it 
were  possible  to  separate  it  from  what  follows—- 
'.Enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord.^" 

The  following  reflections  on  the  vicissitudes  of 
human  affairs,  and  on  the  benefits  to  be  derived 
from  duly  considering  them,  are  highly  important 
and  instructive : — 

"  In    the    course  of  my  life,  I    have  been  in  as 


SIR      MATTHEW      HALE.  14Y 

many  stations  and  places  as  most  men.     I  have  ex- 
perienced almost  continual  motion  ;  and  although, 
of  all  earthly  things,  I  have  most  desired  rest,  and 
a  fixed  private  station,  yet  the  various  changes  that 
I   have   seen   and   found,   the   public   employments 
that,  without  my  seeking,  and  against  my  inclina- 
tion, have  been  put  upon  me,  and  many  other  in- 
terventions, as  well  private  as  public,  have  made  it 
literally   my   experience,   that  I  have  here  no  con- 
tinuing city.     When  I  had  designed  for  myself  a 
settled   mansion  in  one  place,  and  had  fitted  it  to 
my  convenience  and  repose,  I  have  been  presently 
constrained,    by    my    necessary    employments,    to 
leave  it,  and  repair  to  another :  and  when  again  I 
thought  to  find  repose  there,  and  had  suited  it  to 
my  cmivenience,  some  other  necessary  occurrences 
have  diverted  me  from  it.    And  thus,  my  dwellings 
have   been    like    so    many   inns  to  a  traveller,  of 
longer   continuance,   indeed,  but   of  almost    equal 

instability. 

« This  unsettledness  of  station,  though  trouble- 
some,  has  given  me  a  good  and  practical  moral ; 
namely,  that  I  must  not  expect  my  rest  in  this 
lower  world  ;  but  must  consider  it  as  the  place  of 
my  journey  and  pilgrimage,  and  look  further  for 
true  repose  and  happiness.  And  truly,  when  I  re- 
fleet,  that  it  has  been  the  wisdom  of  Almighty 
God,  to  exercise,  with  this  kind  of  disci^.line,  those 
worthies  whom  he  has  exhibited  as  patterns  to  the 
rest  of  mankind,  I  have  no  reason  to  complain  of 


148  SIR      MATTHEW      HALE. 

it,  as  a  difficulty  or  an  inconvenience  ;  but  to  be 
thankful  to  him  for  it,  as  an  instruction  and  docu- 
ment, to  put  me  in  remembrance  of  a  better  home, 
and  to  incite  me  to  make  a  due  provision  for  it ; 
even  that  everlasting  rest  which  he  has  provided 
for  them  that  love  him :  it  is  his  gracious  design, 
by  pouring  me  thus  from  vessel  to  vessel,  to  keep  me 
from  fixing  myself  too  much  upon  this  world  below. 

"  But  the  truth  is,  did  we  consider  this  life  as 
becomes  us,  even  as  wise  men,  we  might  easily 
find,  without  the  help  of  such  discipline,  that  the 
world  below,  neither  w^as  intended  for,  nor  indeed 
can  be,  a  place  of  rest :  but  that  it  is  only  a  labora- 
tory to  fit  and  prepare  the  souls  of  the  children  of 
men,  for  a  better  and  more  abiding  state  ;  a  school, 
to  exercise  and  train  us  up  in  habits  of  patience 
and  obedience,  till  we  are  fitted  for  another  sta- 
tion ;  a  little  narrow  nursery,  wherein  we  may  be 
dressed  and -pruned,  till  we  are  fit  to  be  transplant- 
ed into  j^aradise. 

"  The  shortness  of  our  lives,  and  the  continual 
troubles,  sicknesses,  and  calamities,  that  attend 
them ;  and  the  instances  of  mortality  of  all  ages, 
sexes,  and  conditions  of  mankind,  are  sufficient  to 
convince  reasonable  men,  who  have  the  seriousness 
and  patience  to  consider  and  observe,  that  we  have 
no  abiding  city  here.  And  on  the  other  side,  if  we 
will  but  give  ourselve's  leisure  to  consider  the  great 
wisdom  of  Almighty  God,  w^ho  adapts  every  thing 
in  the  world  to  suitable  ends;  the  excellence  of  the 


SIR      M  A  T  T  II  E  AV      HALE.  149 

soul  and  mind  of  man  ;  tlie  great  advances  and  im- 
provements his  nature  is  capable  of;  the  admirable 
means  wliich  the  merciful  and  wise  God  has  afford- 
ed mankind,  by  liis  works  of  nature  and  provi- 
dence, by  his  word  and  instructions,  to  qualify 
them  for  a  nobler  life  than  this  world  can  yield  ;  we 
shall  readily  confess  that  there  is  another  state,  an- 
other city  to  come,  which  it  becomes  every  good, 
and  wise,  and  considerate  man,  to  look  after  and 
fit  himself  for. 

"  And  yet  if  we  regard  the  generality  of  man- 
kind M'ith  due  consideration,  they  will  appear  to  be 
a  company  of  distempered  people.  The  greater 
part  of  tliem  make  it  their  whole  business  to  pro- 
vide for  rest  and  happiness  in  this  world ;  they 
make  the  acquisition  of  wealth  and  honor,  and  the 
preferments  and  pleasures  of  life,  their  great,  if  not 
their  only  business  and  happiness ;  and,  which  is 
yet  a  higher  degree  of  phrensy,  they  esteem  this 
the  only  wisdom ;  and  think  that  the  careful  pro- 
vision for  eternity,  is  the  folly  of  a  few  weak, 
melancholy,  fanciful  men  :  whereas,  it  is  a  truth,  and 
in  due  time  it  will  evidently  appear,  that  those  men 
only,  who  are  solicitous  for  the  attaining  of  their 
everlasting  rest,  are  the  truly  wise  men ;  and  shall 
be  acknowledged  to  be  so,  by  those  who  now  de- 
spise them.  *  We  fools  accounted  his  life  madness, 
and  his  end  to  be  without  honor.  How  is  he  num- 
bered among  the  children  of  God,  and  his  lot  is 
amonir  the  saints !' '» 


150  SIR     MATTHEW     HALE. 

This  eminent  and  virtuous  man  possessed  unin- 
terrupted health,  till  near  the  sixty-sixth  year  of 
his  ao-e.  At  this  period  he  was  affected  with  an  in- 
disposition which,  in  a  short  time,  greatly  impaired 
his  strength  ;  and  he  found  himself  so  unfit  to  dis- 
charge the  duty  of  justice  of  the  king's  bench, 
that  he  was  obliged  to  resign  the  office. 

*'  He  continued,  however,"  says  Bishop)  Burnet, 
"  to  retire  frequently  for  his  devotions  and  studies. 
As  long  as  he  could  go  himself,  he  went  regularly 
to  his  retirement ;  and  when  his  infirmities  in- 
creased so  that  he  was  not  able  to  walk  to  the 
place,  he  made  his  servants  carry  him  thither  in  a 
chair.  At  last,  as  the  winter  came  on,  he  saw  -with 
great  joy  his  deliverance  approaching :  for  besides 
his  being  weary  of  the  world,  and  his  longings  for 
the  blessedness  of  another  state,  his  pains  increased 
so  much,  that  no  patience  inferior  to  his  could  have 
borne  them  without  great  uneasiness  of  mind.  Yet 
he  expressed  to  the  last  such  submission  to  the  will 
of  God,  and  so  equal  a  temper,  that  the  power- 
ful effects  of  Christianity  were  evident,  in  the  sup- 
port which  he  derived  from  it,  under  so  heavy  a 
load, 

"  He  continued  to  enjoy  the  free  use  of  his  rea- 
son and  senses  to  the  latest  moment  of  life.  This 
he  had  often  and  earnestly  prayed  for,  during  his 
last  sickness.  When  his  voice  was  so  sunk  that  he 
could  not  be  heard,  his  fiiends  perceived,  by  the 
almost  constant  lifting  up  of  his  eyes  and  hands, 


SIE     ilATTUEW      HALE. 


151 


that  he  was  still  aspking  towards  that  blessed  state, 
of  which  he  was  now  to  be  speedily  possessed.  He 
had  no  struggles,  nor  seemed  to  be  in  any  pangs  iL 
his  last  moments.  He  breathed  out  his  righteouF 
and  pious  soul  in  peace." 


SECTION    V. 
D  U     R  E  N  T  I . 

Du  Renti  was  a  young  nobleman  of  France,  not 
more  distinguished  by  his  high  birth,  than  by  the 
excellent  talents  and  qualifications  of  his  mind. 
This  accomplished  youth,  influenced  by  a  strong 
sense  of  the  vanity  of  worldly  grandeur,  and  by  an 
ardent  desire  to  enjoy  the  comfort  of  a  retired  and 
religious  life,  believed  it  incumbent  upon  him  to 
relinquish  all  his  honors,  and  to  withdraw  from, 
scenes  which  he  feared  would  ensnare  and  corrupt 
his  heart. 

The  following  extracts  from  his  views  and  senti- 
ments, respecting  these  subjects,  demonstrate,  that 
his  mind  was  much  redeemed  from  the  spirit  and 
enjoyments  of  this  world  ;  and  that  he  endeavored, 
above  all  things,  to  obtain  a  holy  and  devout  tem- 
per of  heart,  and  to  conduct  himself  acceptably  in 
the  Divine  sight : 

"  When  I  gave  up  my  liberty  to  God,  I  per- 
ceived to  what  a  state  of  deep  humiliation  the  soul 
must  be  brought,  to  render  it  capable  of  union 
with  him.  The  splendor  and  vain  enjoyments  of 
this  transitory  scene,   are  great  encumbrances  to 


DU     RENTI.  153 


me,  in  my  endeavors  to  obtain  the  favor  of  God ; 
of  which,  therefore,  his  pleasure  is  that  I  should  be 
stripped,  in  order  to  attain  that  state  of  humility 
and  poorness  of  spirit,  which  will  bring  me  into 
possession  of  real  honor  and  solid  riches. 

"  I  find  no  security  in  any  state,  but  in  that  of 
dying  to  the  worid,  and  in  true  self-abasement :  this 
is  to  be  baptized  into  Christ's  death,  and  to  live 
the  life  of  Christian  selfdenial.  All  that  can  be 
'imagined  to  befixU  us  in  this  lower  world,  is  com- 
paratively of  small  consequence,  though  it  were  the 
losing  of  all  our  possessions.  Had  we  but  a  little 
faith,  and  a  little  love,  how  happy  should  we  find 
ourselves,  in  being  willing  to  resign  up  every 
thing;  and  in  saying,  3Iy  God,  and  my  All!'' 

How  conformable  are  these  sentiments  to  the 
Divine  injunctions,  *'  Love  not  the  world,  nor  the 
things  that  are  in  the  world."—"  But  be  ye  trans- 
formed by  the  renewing  of  your  mind."  It  is, 
indeed,  a  holy  and  happy  state,  to  be  living  above 
the  world,  and  pressing  after  perfection,  at  the 
same  time  that  we  gratefully  acknowledge  Divine 
Goodness,  in  providing  for  our  necessities  during 
our  passage  through  life.  This  supreme  love  of 
God,  and  desire  to  be  united  to  him,  though  often 
cherished  by  retirement,  is  not  a  solitary  and 
inactive  principle.  It  not  only  purifies  and  exalts 
our  minds,  but  it  expands  them  towards  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  leads  us  into  acts  of  universal 
charity. 


SECTION   yi. 

PRINCESS     ELIZABETH. 

Princess  Elizabeth,  of  the  Rhine,  was  born  in 
the  year  1620.  She  was  the  eldest  daughter  of 
Frederick  Y.,  elector  palatine,  and  king  of  Bohemia, 
by  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  the  First,  king  of 
England.  This  excellent  princess  possessed  only  a 
small  territory ;  but  she  governed  it  with  great 
judgment,  and  attention  to  the  happiness  of  her 
subjects.  She  made  it  a  rule  to  hear,  one  day  in 
the  week,  all  such  causes  as  were  brought  before 
her.  On  these  occasions,  her  wisdom,  justice,  and 
moderation,  were  very  conspicuous.  She  frequently 
remitted  forfeitures,  in  cases  where  the  parties  were 
poor,  or  in  any  respect  worthy  of  favor.  It  was 
remarkable  that  she  often  introduced  religious  con- 
siderations, as  motives  to  persuade  the  contending 
parties  to  harmony  and  peace.  She  was  greatly 
beloved  and  respected  by  her  subjects ;  and  also  by 
many  persons  of  learning  and  virtue  not  resident 
hi  her  dominions :  for  she  patronized  men  of  this 
character,  whatever  might  be  their  country,  or 
their  religious  profession. 

In  the  year  1677,  the  celebrated  William  Penn 


PRI?fCESS     ELIZABETH.  155 

paid  her  n,  visit ;  and  was  treated  by  her  with  great 
respect.  The  following  account  of  her  is  taken 
from  his  works  : — 

"  The  meekness  and  humility  of  the  princess 
appeared  to  me  extraordinary :  she  did  not  con- 
sider the  quality,  but  the  merit  of  the  people  she 
entertained.  Did  she  hear  of  a  retired  man,  seek- 
ing after  the  knowledge  of  a  better  world,  she  was 
sure  to  set  him  down  in  tlie  catalogue  of  her 
charity,  if  he  wanted  it.  I  have  casually  seen,  I 
believe,  fifty  tokens  of  her  benevolence,  sealed  and 
directed  to  the  several  poor  subjects  of  her  bounty, 
whose  distance  prevented  them  from  being  person- 
ally known  to  her.  Thus,  though  she  kept  no 
sumptuous  table  in  her  own  court,  she  spread  the 
tables  of  the  poor  in  their  solitary  cells ;  breaking 
bread  to  virtuous  pilgrims,  according  to  their  want 
and  her  ability. 

"  She  was  abstemious  in  her  living ;  and  in  ap- 
parel void  of  all  vain  ornaments.  I  must  needs 
say,  that  her  mind  had  a  noble  prospect :  her  eye 
was  to  a  better  and  more  lasting  inheritance  than 
can  be  found  below.  This  made  her  not  overrate 
the  honors  of  her  station,  or  the  learning  of  the 
schools,  of  which  she  was  an  excellent  judge.  Be- 
ing once  at  Hamburg,  a  religious  j^erson,  whom 
she  went  to  see  for  her  religion's  sake,  remarked  to 
her,  that  '  it  was  too  great  an  honor  for  him,  that  a 
visitant  of  her  quality,  who  was  allied  to  so  many 
great  kings  and  princes  of  this  world,  should  come 


156  PRINCESS     ELIZABETH. 

under  his  roof:'  to  whom  she  humbly  rephed  :  '  If 
they  were  rehgious,  as  well  as  great,  it  would  be  an 
honor  indeed ;  but  if  you  knew  what  that  greatness 
is,  as  well  as  I  do,  you  would  value  it  less.' 

"  After  a  religious  meeting  which  we  had  in  her 
chamber,  she  was  much  affected,  and  said  :  '  It  is  a 
hard  thing  to  be  faithful  to  what  one  knows.  O, 
the  way  is  straight !  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  weighty 
enough  in  my  spirit  to  walk  in  it ! 

"  She  once  withdrew,  on  purpose  to  give  her  ser- 
vants, who  were  religiously  disposed,  the  liberty  of 
discoumng  with  us,  that  they  might  the  more  freely 
put  what  questions  of  conscience  they  desired  to  be 
satisfied  in.  Sometimes  she  suffered  both  them  and 
the  poorest  persons  of  her  town,  to  sit  by  her  in  her 
own  chamber,  where  we  had  two  meetings.  I  can- 
not forget  her  last  words,  when  I  took  my  leave  of 
her  :  '  Let  me  desire  you  to  remember  me,  though 
I  live  at  so  great  a  distance,  and  you  should  never 
see  me  more.  I  thank  you  for  this  good  time.  Be 
assured,  that  though  my  condition  subjects  me  to 
divers  temptations,  yet  my  soul  has  strong  desires 
after  the  best  things.' 

"  She  lived  till  the  age  of  sixty  years  ;  and  then 
departed  at  her  house  in  Ilerwerden,  in  the  year 
1680,  as  much  lamented,  as  she  had  been  beloved 
by  her  people.  To  her  real  worth  I  do,  with  a 
religious  gratitude,  dedicate  this  memorial." 


SECTION    VII. 
WILLIAM    MOMPESSON. 

William  Mompesson  was  rector  of  Eyam  in 
Derbyshire,  during  tlie  time  of  the  plague  that 
nearly  depopulated  the  town  in  the  year  1666,  the 
year  after  that  distemper  prevailed  in  London. 
Tliis  benevolent  man  tliought  it  his  duty  to  con- 
tinue in  the  place,  notwithstanding  the  plague  was 
making  its  ravages  around  him.  He  never  caught 
the  disorder ;  and  was  enabled,  during  the  whole 
time  of  the  calamity,  to  perform  the  functions  of 
the  physician,  the  legislator,  and  the  priest,  of  his 
afflicted  parish  ;  assisting  the  sick  with  his  medi- 
cines, his  advice,  and  his  prayers.  During  these 
pious  labors,  his  wife  was  taken  ill,  and  died. 

The  following  letter,  -written  by  him  to  Sir 
George  Saville,  patron  of  the  living  of  Eyam, 
breathes  such  a  spirit  of  pure  religion  and  resigna- 
tion of  mind,  that  we  doubt  not  it  will  be  accept- 
able to  the  reader : — 

*'  Honored  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  This  is  the  saddest  news  that  ever  my  pen 
could  write  !     The  destroying  angel  having  taken 


158  WILLIAM     MOMPESSON. 

up  his  quarters  within  my  habitation,  my  clearest; 
wife  is  gone  to  her  eternal  rest,  and  is  invested 
with  a  crown  of  righteousnesSy  having  made  a 
happy  end. 

"Indeed,  had  she  loved  herself  as  well  as  me, 
she  had  fled  from  the  pit  of  destruction  with  her 
sweet  babes,  and  might  have  prolonged  her  days : 
but  she  was  resolved  to  die  a  martyr  to  my  interest. 
My  drooping  spirits  are  much  refreshed  with  her 
joys,  which  I  think  are  unutterable. 

"  Sir,  this  j)aper  is  to  bid  you  a  hearty  farewell 
for  ever,  and  to  bring  you  my  humble  thanks  for  all 
your  noble  favors;  and  I  hope  you  will  believe  a 
dying  man.  I  have  as  much  love  as  honor  for  you, 
and  I  will  bend  my  feeble  knees  to  the  God  of 
heaven,  that  you,  my  dear  lady,  and  your  children, 
and  their  children,  may  be  blessed  with  external 
and  eternal  happiness ;  and  that  the  same  blessing 
may  fall  upon  Lady  Sunderland  and  her  relations. 

"Dear  sir,  let  your  dying  chaplain  recommend 
this  truth  to  you  and  your  family,  that  no  happi- 
ness or  solid  comfort  can  be  found  in  this  vale  of 
tears,  like  living  a  pious  life :  and  pray  ever  retain 
this  rule :  '  Never  do  anything  upon  which  you  dare 
not  first  ask  the  blessing  of  God.' 

"Sir,  I  have  made  bold  in  my  will  with  your 
name  for  an  executor ;  and  I  hope  that  you  will  not 
take  it  ill.  I  have  joined  two  others  M'ith  you,  who 
will  take  from  you  the  trouble.  Your  favorable 
aspect  will,  I  know,  be  a  great  comfort  to  my  dis- 


W  I  L  T.  I  A  M      M  O  M  P  E  S  S  O  X 


159 


tressed  orphans.  I  am  not  desiroijs  that  they  may 
be  great,  but  good ;  that  they  may  be  brought  up 
in  the  fear  and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 

"Sh-,  I  thank  God  I  am  contented  to  shake 
hands  with  all  the  world;  and  have  many  com- 
fortable assurances  that  God  will  accept  me  upon 
the  account  of  his  Son.  I  hnd  the  goodness  of  God 
greater  than  ever  I  thought  or  imagined;  and  I 
wish,  from  my  soul,  that  it  were  not  so  much 
abused  and  contemned. 

"  I  desire,  sir,  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  make 
choice  of  an  humble,  pious  man,  to  succeed  me  in 
my  parsonage;  and  could  I  see  your  face  before 
my  departure  hence,  I  would  inform  you  in  what 
manner  I  think  he  may  live  comfortably  amongst 
his  people  ;  which  would  be  some  satisfaction  to  me 
before  I  die. 

"  Dear  sir,  I  beg  your  prayers,  and  desire  you  to 
procure  the  prayers  of  all  about  you,  that  I  may 
not  be  daunted  by  the  powers  of  hell.  With  tears 
I  beg,  that  when  you  are  praying  for  fatherless  in- 
fants, you  would  remember  my  two  pretty  babes. 

"  Pardon  the  rude  style  of  this  paper ;   and  be 
pleased  to  believe  that  I  am,  dear  sir, 
"  Your  most  obliged,  most  affectionate, 
"  and  grateful  servant, 

"William  Mompesson. 

«Eyam,  Sept.  1,  1666." 


SECTION    YIII. 
A  r>  M  I  R  A  L    P  E  N  N  . 

William  Penn,  afterwards  Sir  William  Penn, 
kniglit  and  admiral  of  Englaiu],  was  born  in  the 
year  1621 ;  and  descended  from  an  ancient  family. 
At  twenty-three  years  of  age,  he  was  made  rear- 
admiral  of  Ireland ;  at  thirty-one,  vice-admiral  of 
England ;  and  at  thirty-two,  general  in  the  first 
Dutch  war.  He  was  a  member  of  parliament  in 
1655;  and  in  1660  was  made  a  commissioner  of 
the  admiralty  and  navy,  and  governor  of  the  fort 
and  town  of  Kinsale. 

In  1664  he  was  appointed  chief  commander  under 
the  dnke  of  York;  and  was  in  the  remarkable  en- 
gagement which,  in  that  year,  happened  with  the 
Dutch  fleet.  He  then  took  leave  of  the  sea;  and 
soon  after,  finding  his  bodily  infirmities  increase,  he 
withdrew  to  Wanstead  in  Essex,  where  he  died  in 
1670. 

A  short  time  before  his  death,  looking  over  the 
busy  scenes  in  which  he  had  been  engaged,  he  be- 
came solemnly  impressed  with  the  view ;  and  filled 
with  regret  for  his  want  of  suflEicient  attention  to 
the  mercies  he  had  received.     The  followino:  ex- 


ADMIRAL     PENN.  161 

cellent  advice  "which,  at  that  time,  lie  gave  to  one 
of  his  sons,  strongly  expresses  the  religious  state  of 
liis  mind. 

*'  Son  William,  I  am  weary  of  the  world.  I 
would  not  live  over  my  days  again,  if  I  could  com- 
mand them  with  a  wish ;  for  the  snares  of  life  are 
greater  than  the  fears  of  death.  This  troubles  me, 
that  I  have  offended  a  gracious  God,  who  has  fol- 
lowed me  to  this  day.  O,  have  a  care  of  sin;  that 
is  the  sting  both  of  life  and  death.  Three  things  I 
commend  to  you.  First,  let  nothing  in  this  world 
tempt  you  to  wrong  your  conscience ;  I  charge  you, 
do  nothing  against  your  conscience:  you  will  then 
keep  peace  at  home,  which  will  be  a  feast  to  you  in 
the  day  of  trouble. 

"  Secondly,  whatever  you  design  to  do,  plan  it 
justly,  and  time  it  seasonably:  for  these  give  se- 
curity and  despatch.  Lastly,  be  not  troubled  at 
disappointments:  for  if  they  may  be  recovered,  do 
it ;  if  they  cannot,  trouble  is  vain.  If  you  could 
not  have  avoided  them,  be  content:  peace  and 
profit  often  attend  submission  to  Providence ;  and 
afflictions  make  wise.  If  you  could  have  avoided 
them,  let  not  your  trouble  exceed  instruction  for 
another  time.  These  rules  will  carry  you  with  firm- 
ness and  comfort  through  this  inconstant  world." 


CHAPTER    Y. 

Pascal — Robert  Boyle — John  Locke — John  Janewat- 
Earl  of  Marlborough. 


SECTION    I. 
PASCAL. 


Blaise  Pascal  was  born  at  Clermont  in  France, 
in  the  year  1623.  Nature  endowed  him  with  ex- 
traordinary powers  of  mind,  which  were  highly  cul- 
tivated. He  was  an  eminent  philosopher,  a  profound 
reasoner,  and  a  sublime  and  elegant  writer.  We 
raise  his  character  still  higher,  when  we  say,  he  was 
a  man  of  most  exemplary  piety  and  virtue. 

The  celebrated  Bayle,  speaking  of  this  distin- 
guished person,  says  :  "  A  hundred  volumes  of  re- 
ligious discourses,  are  not  of  so  much  avail  to  con- 
found the  impious,  as  a  simple  account  of  the  hfe 
of  Pascal.  His  humility  and  his  devotion  mortify 
the  libertines  more,  than  if  they  were  attacked  by 
a  dozen  missionaries.  They  can  no  longer  assert, 
that  piety  is  confined  to  men  of  little  minds,  when 


PASCAL.  163 


they  behold  the  highest  degree  of  it  in  a  geometri- 
cian of  the  first  rank,  the  most  acute  metaphysician, 
and  one  of  the  most  penetrating  minds  that  ever 

existed." 

From  his  infancy,  Pascal  gave  proofs  of  a  very 
uncommon  capacity.  He  desired  to  know  the  rea- 
son of  everything,  and  when  sufficient  reasons  were 
not  offered,  he  sought  for  better:  nor  would  he 
ever  yield  his  assent,  but  to  such  as  appeared  to 
him  well-grounded.  It  is  a  comfortable  reflection, 
that  a  man  of  this  turn,  with  a  mind  so  comprehen- 
sive  and  sagacious,  entertained  the  most  exalted 
sentiments  of  the  Christian  religion ;  and  never  had 
the  least  doubt  of  its  Divine  authority.  This  in- 
formation we  have  from  his  biographer,  who  knew 
him  well,  and  who  says,  "that,  by  the  instructions 
and  example  of  his  fother,  great  reverence  for  re- 
hgion  was  early  impressed  upon  his  mind,  and  con- 
tinued with  him  through  life;  and  that  he  was 
always,  in  a  high  degree,  opposed  to  the  principles 
ofintidelity." 

When  he  w^as  in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his 
age,  he  declined  mathematical  and  philosophical 
sUidies^  in  which  he  had  so  eminently  distinguished 
himself,  resolving  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his 
days  in  retirement,  and  to  devote  his  time  and 
talents  wholly  to  the  cause  of  piety  and  virtue. 
His  work,  entitled,  "Thoughts  upon  Religion  and 
other  Subjects,"  has  been  much  read  and  admired. 
He  employed  a  great  part  of  his  time  in  prayer, 


164  PASCAL. 

and  in  reading  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  and  he  found 
the  greatest  comfort  and  delight  in  these  devout 
exercises.  He  used  to  say,  "that  the  Sacred 
Scriptures  are  not  so  much  adapted  to  the 
head,  as  to  the  heart  of  man ;  that  they  are  intel- 
ligible only  to  those  who  have  their  hearts  right ; 
and  that  to  others  they  are  obscure  and  unin- 
teresting." 

In  his  retirement  he  was  visited  by  many  persons 
of  distinction,  who,  on  account  of  his  great  wis- 
dom and  piety,  wished  to  consult  him  respecting 
religious  subjects.  His  conversation  abundantly 
answered  their  expectations :  but  he  felt  a  fear  to 
possess  his  mind,  lest,  on  such  occasions,  he  should 
speak  rather  to  gratify  his  own  vanity,  than  simply 
to  afford  information. 

In  the  following  lines,  which  were  written  by 
himself,  and  found  among  his  papers  after  his  de- 
cease, we  see  a  striking  picture  of  the  mind  of  this 
good  man : 

"I  respect  poverty,  because  Jesus  Christ  re- 
spected it :  I  respect  riches,  because  they  furnish 
the  means  of  reUeving  the  distressed.  I  do  not 
return  evil  to  those  who  have  done  me  an  injury. 
I  endeavor  to  be  sincere  and  faithful  to  all  men, 
but  I  have  a  pecuHar  tenderness  towards  those 
with  whom  God  has  caused  me  to  be  intimately 
connected.  Whether  I  am  alone,  or  in  company, 
I  consider  myself  as  in  the  sight  of  God,  who  will 
judge  my  actions;  and  to  whom  I  consecrate  them 


PASCAL.  166 

all.  These  are  my  sentiments :  and  I  daily  bless 
my  Redeemer,  who  has  impressed  them  upon  me ; 
and  who,  by  the  operation  of  his  grace,  has  taken 
away  the  concupiscence,  pride,  ambition,  and  mi- 
sery, to  which  I  was  naturally  subject.  I  owe 
ray  deliverance  to  his  ])ower  and  goodness,  hav- 
ing nothing  of  myself  but  imbecility  and  corrup- 
tion.'^ 

Pascal,  fi'om  his  youth,  was  much  afflicted  with 
sickness ;  and  he  often  said  that,  from  the  nine- 
teenth year  of  his  age,  he  had  never  j^tassed  a 
day  free  from  pain.  He  submitted  to  his  suf- 
ferings without  a  murmur,  and  even  at  times  re- 
joiced in  them ;  believing  that  they  came  from 
the  hand  of  his  most  merciful  Father,  and  were 
designed  for  the  purification  and  improvement  of 
his  soul. 

During  his  last  illness  his  deportment  was  truly 
edifying ;  and  his  expressions  of  charity  and  pious 
resignation,  though  deeply  affecting,  were  highly 
consolatory  to  his  friends.  He  said  to  his  sister 
who  attended  him  :  "  How  has  it  happened  that  I 
have  never  done  anything  for  the  poor,  though  I 
have  always  had  a  great  love  for  them  ?"  She  ob- 
served to  him  that  he  had  not  possessed  property 
sufficient  to  afford  them  much  assistance.  "  Then," 
said  he,  "  I  ought  to  have  given  them  my  time  and 
labor.  In  this  respect  I  am  to  blame :  and  if  my 
physicians  speak  truly,  and  God  should  permit  me 
to  recover,  I  am  resolved  that  the  service  of  the 


166  PASCAL. 

13001-  shfill  be  the  sole  employment  of  my  remain- 
ing days." 

To  some  of  his  friends,  who  expressed  the  con- 
cern they  felt  on  account  of  his  great  and  con- 
tinued afflictions,  he  said  :  "  I  know  the  dangers  of 
liealth,  and  the  advantages  of  sickness.  When  we 
are  ill,  we  are  exempt  from  many  of  the  passions 
which  disturb  us  in  health  ;  we  are  without  ambi- 
tion, without  avarice  ;  we  are  in  continual  expecta- 
tion of  death.  We  have  nothing  to  do,  but  to 
submit  humbly  and  peacefully." 

The  hiimility  and  simplicity  of  heart,  for  which 
he  was  always  remarkable,  seemed  to  increase  as 
he  approached  his  end.  A  person  who  frequently 
visited  hira  in  his  last  sickness,  said  of  him  :  "  He 
is  a  child  :  he  is  humble ;  he  submits  like  a  little 
child."  One  of  his  particular  friends,  who  had 
spent  an  hour  with  him,  and  had  been  much  edified 
by  his  meek  and  pious  example,  thus  expressed 
himself  to  his  sister :  "  You  may,  indeed,  be  com- 
forted. If  God  should  call  him  hence,  you  have 
abundant  cause  to  praise  that  gracious  Being  for  the 
favors  which  he  has  conferred  upon  him.  I  always 
very  much  admired  his  great  qualities  :  but  I  nev- 
er before  observed  that  extraordinary  simplicity 
which  I  have  just  now  witnessed :  it  is  wonderful 
in  such  a  mind  as  he  possesses.  I  most  cordially 
wish  that  I  were  in  his  situation." 

His  last  words  were  :  "  May  God  never  forsake 
me !"  and  he  died  full  of  peace  and  hope. 


PASCAL.  167 

With  every  deduction  that  can  be  made,  for  a 
few  errors  arising  from  pecuUar  circumstances, 
Pascal  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  greatest 
ornaments  of  human  nature.  Few  have  rivalled 
him  in  talents,  and  few  have  led  a  life  of  equal 
innocence  and  piety. 


SECTION    II. 

ROBERT      BOYLE. 

The  honorable  Robert  Boyle,  an  eminent  phi- 
losopher, and  a  truly  good  man,  was  the  son  of 
Richard,  earl  of  Cork,  and  was  born  at  Lismore, 
in  Ireland,  in  the  year  1627.  At  Eton  school, 
where  he  was  educated,  he  soon  discovered  a  force 
of  understanding,  which  promised  great  things: 
and  a  disposition  to  improve  it  to  the  utmost. 
During  his  education,  and  before  he  was  ten  years 
old,  he  was  much  afflicted  with  an  ague,  which 
considerably  depressed  his  spirits :  and  to  divert 
his  attention,  he  was  persuaded  to  read  Auiadis  de 
Gaul,  and  other  romantic  books.  But  this  kind  of 
reading,  he  says  in  his  memoirs,  produced  such 
restlessness  in  him,  that  he  was  obliged  to  apply 
himself  to  mathematical  studies,  in  order  to  fix  and 
settle  the  volatility  of  his  fancy. 

He  was  a  man  of  great  learning ;  and  his  stock 
of  knowledge  was  immense.  The  celebrated  Dr. 
Boerhaave  has  passed  the  following  eulogium  upon 
him:  "Boyle  was  the  ornament  of  his  age  and 
country.     Which  of  his  writings  shall  I  commend  ? 


ROBERT     BOYLE.  I6d 

All  of  them*  To  him  we  owe  the  secrets  of  fire, 
air,  water,  animals,  vegetables,  fossils  :  so  that  from 
his  works  may  be  deduced  the  whole  system  of 
natural  knowledge." 

He  was  treated  with  particular  kindness  and 
respect  by  King  Charles  the  Second,  as  well  as  by 
the  two  great  ministers,  Southampton  and  Claren- 
don. By  the  latter  he  was  solicited  to  enter  into 
orders  t  for  his  distinguished  learning,  and  unblem- 
ished reputation  induced  Lord  Clarendon  to  think 
that  so  very  respectable  a  personage  would  do  great 
honor  to  the  clergy. 

Boyle  considered  the  proposal  with  due  atten- 
tion. He  reflected,  that,  in  his  present  situation  of 
life,  whatever  he  wrote,  with  respect  to  religion, 
would  have  greater  weight,  as  coming  from  a  lay- 
man ;  for  he  well  knew  that  the  irreligious  foitified 
themselves  against  all  that  the  clergy  could  offer, 
by  supposing  and  saying,  tliat  it  was  their  trade, 
and  that  they  were  paid  for  it.  He  considered, 
likewise,  that,  in  point  of  fortune  and  character,  he 
needed  no  accessions :  and,  indeed,  his  desire  for 
these  was  always  very  limited. 

But  Bishop  Burnet,  to  whom  Boyle  had  com- 
municated memorandums  concernmg  his  life,  tells 
us,  that  what  had  the  greatest  weight,  in  deter- 
mining his  judgment,  was,  "  the  not  feeling  within 
himself  any  motion  or  tendency  of  mind  which 
he  could  safely  esteem  a  call  from  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit:   and    therefore   he    did    not    venture    to    take 


170  KOBEKT     BOYLE* 

holy  orders,  lest  he  should  be  found  to  have  lied 
■unto  it." 

Bishop  Burnet,  who  was  Boyle's  particular 
friend,  and  who,  during  an  intimacy  of  twenty-nine 
years,  had  sj^ent  many  happy  hours  in  conversation 
with  him,  gives  a  full  account  of  his  genuine  piety 
and  virtue,  and  of  his  zeal  for  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. "  This  zeal,"  he  says,  "  was  unmixed  with 
narrow  notions,  or  a  bigoted  heat  in  favor  of  a  par^ 
ticular  sect :  it  was  that  spirit  which  is  the  orna- 
ment of  a  true  Christian.'*  Burnet  mentions,  as  a 
proof  of  this,  his  noble  foundation  for  lectures  in 
defence  of  the  gospel,  against  infidels  of  all  sorts ; 
the  effects  of  which  have  been  very  conspicuous  in 
the  many  volumes  of  excellent  discourses  which 
have  been  published  in  consequence  of  that  laud- 
able and  pious  design. 

He  was  at  the  charge  of  the  translation  and  im- 
pression of  the  New  Testament,  into  the  Malayan 
tongue  :  and  he  had  it  dispersed  in  the  East  Indies. 
He  gave  a  great  reward  to  the  person  who  trans- 
lated into  Arabic,  Grotius's  incomparable  book,  on 
the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion  ;  and  had  a  whole 
edition  printed  at  his  own  expense,  which  he  took 
care  to  have  spread  in  all  the  countries  where  that 
language  was  understood.  By  munificent  dona- 
tions, and  by  his  patronage,  he  also  very  materially 
promoted  the  plans  of  other  persons,  for  propaga- 
ting the  Christian  rehgion,  in  remote  parts  of  the 
world.     In  other  respects,  his  charities  were  so  ex- 


ROBERT      BOYT.K. 


lYl 


tensive,  that  they  amounted  to  more  than  a  thou- 
sand pounds  sterUng  every  year. 

The    «n-cat   object   of  his  philosophical  pursuits, 
Avas,  to  promote  the  cause  of  religion,  and  to  dis- 
countenance  alheism  and  infidelity.     His  intimate 
friend.  Bishop  Burnet,  makes  the  following  observa- 
tions on  this  point :   "  It   appeared  to  those  who 
conversed  with  him  on  his  inquiries  into  nature, 
that  his  main  design,  (on  which,  as  he  had  his  own 
eye  constantly  fixed,  so  he  took  care  to  put  others 
often  in  mind  of  it,)  was  to  raise  in  himself  and 
others,  more   exalted  sentiments  of  the  greatness 
and  glory,  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God.    This 
design  was  so  deeply  impressed  on  his  mind,  that 
he  concludes  the  article  of  his  will  which  relates  to 
the  Royal  Society,  in  these  words :  '  I  wish  them  a 
happy  success  in  their  attempts  to  discover  the  true 
nature  of  the  works  of  God  :  and  I  pray  that  they, 
and  all  other  searchers  into  physical   truths,  may 
cordially  refer  their  attainments,  to  the  glory  of  the 
great  Author  of  nature,  and  to  the  comfort  of  man- 
kind.' " 

On  another  occasion,  the  same  person  speaks  of 
him  thus  :  "  He  had  the  most  profound  veneration 
for  the  great  God  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  I  ever 
observed  in  any  man.  The  very  name  of  God  was 
never  mentioned  by  him,  without  a  pause  and 
observable  stop  in  his  discourse."  So  brightly  did 
the  example  of  this  great  and  good  man  shine, 
through  his  whole  course,  that  Bishop  Burnet,  on 


172  KOBERT     BOYLE. 

reviewing  it,  in  a  moment  of  pious  exultation,  thus 
expressed  himself:  "I  might  challenge  the  whole 
tribe  of  libertines,  to  come  and  view  the  usefulness, 
as  well  as  the  excellence  of  the  Christian  religion, 
in  a  life  that  was  entirely  dedicated  to  it," 


SECTION    III. 
JOHN     LOOKE. 

John  Locke,  a  very  celebrated  philosopher,  and 
one  of  the  greatest  men  that  England  ever  pro- 
duced, was  born  in  the  year  1632.  He  was  well 
educated  ;  and  applying  himself  with  vigor  to  his 
studies,  his  mind  became  enlarged,  and  stored  with 
much  useful  knowledge.  He  went  abroad  as  secre- 
tary to  the  English  ambassador  at  several  of  the 
German  courts ;  and  afterwards  had  the  offer  of 
being  made  envoy  at  the  court  of  the  emperor,  or 
of  any  other  that  he  chose  :  but  he  declined  the 
proposal,  on  account  of  the  infirm  state  of  his 
health. 

He  was  a  commissioner  of  trade  and  plantations, 
in  which  station  he  very  honorably  distinguished 
himself  Notwithstanding  his  public  employments, 
hfc  found  leisure  to  write  much  for  the  benefit  of 
mankind.  His  "  Essay  on  the  Human  Understand- 
ing," his  "  Discourses  on  Government,"  and  his 
"  Letters  on  Toleration,"  are  justly  held  in  high 
estimation. 

This  enlightened  man  and  profound  reasoner  was 
most  firmly  attached  to  the  Christian  religion.    His 


1 74  J  O  II  N      L  O  C  K  E  . 

zeal  to  promote  it  appeared,  first,  in  his  middle  age, 
by  publishing  a  discourse  to  demonstrate  the  rea- 
sonableness of  believing  Jesus  to  be  the  promised 
Messiah  ;  and,  afterwards,  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
life,  by  a  very  judicious  Commentary  on  several  of 
the  Epistles  of  the  Apostle  Paul. 

The  sacred  Scriptures  are  everywhere  mentioned 
by  him  with  the  greatest  reverence  ;  and  he  ex- 
horts Christians,  "  to  betake  themselves  in  earnest 
to  the  study  of  the  way  to  salvation,  in  those  holy 
writings,  wherein  God  has  revealed  it  from  heaven, 
and  proposed  it  to  the  world  ;  seeking  our  religion 
where  we  are  sure  it  is  in  truth  to  be  found,  com- 
paring spiritual  things  with  spiritual." 

In  a  letter,  written  the  year  before  his  death,  to 
a  person  who  asked  this  question,  "  What  is  the 
shortest  and  surest  way  for  a  young  man  to  attain 
the  true  knowledge  of  the  Christian  religion  ?"  he 
says :  "  Let  him  study  the  Holy  Scriptures,  espe- 
cially the  New  Testament.  Therein  are  contained 
the  words  of  eternal  life.  It  has  God  for  its  author ; 
salvation  for  its  end  ;  and  truth  without  any  mix- 
ture of  error,  for  its  matter." 

This  advice  was  conformable  to  his  own  practice. 
"  For  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  he  applied  himself, 
in  an  especial  manner,  to  the  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  employed  the  last  years  of  his  life  hardly 
in  anything  else.  He  was  never  weary  of  admir- 
ing the  great  views  of  that  sacred  book,  and  the 
just  relation  of  all  its  parts:    he  every  day  made 


JOHNLOCKE.  175 

discoveries  in  it,   tliat    gave    Iiim   fresh    cause  of 
admiration." 

The  consolation  which  he  derived  from  Divine 
revelation,  is  forcibly  expressed  in  these  words :  "  I 
gratefully  receive  and  rejoice  in  the  light  of  revela- 
tion, which  has  set  me  at  rest  in  many  things,  the 
manner  whereof  my  poor  reason  can  by  no  means 
make  out  to  me." 

After  he  had  dihgently  employed  a  great  part  of 
his  life  in  a  variety  of  occupations,  he  chose  a  pleas- 
ing retirement  for  the  remainder  of  his  days.  This 
leisure  appears  to  have  been  productive  of  solid 
improvement,  by  enabling  him  to  look  calmly  over 
the  scenes  of  past  life  ;  to  form  a  proper  estimate 
of  its  enjoyments ;  and  to  dedicate  himself  more 
fully  to  the  cause  of  piety  and  virtue. 

The  summer  before  his  death,  he  began  to  be 
very  sensible  of  his  approaching  dissolution.  He 
often  spoke  of  it,  and  always  with  great  composure. 
A  short  time  before  his  decease,  he  declared  to  a 
friend,  that  "  he  was  in  the  sentiments  of  perfect 
charity  towards  all  men  ;  and  of  a  sincere  union 
with  the  church  of  Christ,  under  whatever  name 
distinguished." 

The  day  before  his  death.  Lady  Masham  being 
alone  with  him,  and  sitting  by  his  bedside,  he 
.exhorted  her  to  regard  this  world  only  as  a  state 
of  preparation  for  a  better  ;  adding,  that  "  he  had 
lived  long  enough,  and  thanked  God  for  having 
passed  his  days  so  comfortably ;  but  that  this  life 


176  JOHN      LOCKE. 

appeared  to  him  mere  vanity."  His  meaning,  in 
this  last  expression,  doubtless  was,  that  the  dura- 
tion and  enjoyment  of  this  life  are  as  nothing, 
compared  with  the  endless  ages,  and  the  supreme 
felicity,  of  the  life  which  is  to  come. 

The  same  day,  he  particularly  advised  all  about 
him  to  read  the  Scriptures ;  and  desired  to  be  re- 
membered by  them  at  evening  prayers.  Being 
told  that,  if  he  chose  it,  the  whole  family  should 
be  with  him  in  his  chamber,  he  said,  he  should  be 
very  glad  to  have  it  so,  if  it  would  not  give  too 
much  trouble :  and  an  occasion  offering  to  speak 
of  the  goodness  of  God,  he  especially  exalted  the 
care  which  God  showed  to  man  in  justifying  him 
by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ;  and,  in  particular,  re- 
turned God  thanks,  for  having  blessed  him  with 
the  knowledge  of  the  Divine  Saviour. 

About  tTro  months  before  his  death,  he  wrote  a 
letter  to  bis  friend,  Anthony  Collins,  and  left  this 
direction  upon  it :  "  To  be  delivered  to  him  after 
my  decease."  It  concludes  with  the  following  re- 
mai'kable  words : — 

"  May  you  live  long  and  happy,  in  the  enjoyment 
of  health,  freedom,  content,  and  all  those  blessings 
which  Providence  has  bestowed  on  you,  and  to 
which  your  virtue  entitles  you.  You  loved  me 
living,  and  will  preserve  my  memory  when  I  am 
dead.  All  the  use  to  be  made  of  it  is,  that  this  life 
is  a  scene  of  vanity,  which  soon  passes  away,  and 
affords  no  solid  satisfaction,  but  in  the  conscious- 


JOHN     LOCKE.  177 

ness  of  doing  well,  and  in  the  liopes  of  another  life. 
This  is  what  I  can  say  upon  experience ;  and  what 
you  will  find  to  be  true,  when  you  come  to  make 
up  the  account.     Adieu." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  by 
Lady  Masham,  deserves  a  place  among  the  testi- 
monies respecting  this  distinguished  and  excellent 
man: 

"  You  will  not,  perhajDS,  dislike  to  know,  that  the 
last  scene  of  Mr.  Locke's  life,  was  not  less  admirable 
than  anything  else  concerning  him.  All  the  facul- 
ties of  his  mind  were  perfect  to  the  last.  His  weak- 
ness, of  which  only  he  died,  made  such  gradual  and 
visible  advances,  that  few  people,  I  think,  do  so  sen- 
sibly see  death  approach  them,  as  he  did.  During 
all  this  time,  no  one  could  observe  the  least  altera- 
tion in  his  humor :  always  cheerful,  conversable, 
civil ;  to  the  last  day  thoughtful  of  all  the  concerns 
of  his  friends,  and  omitting  no  fit  occasion  of  giv^- 
ing  Christian  advice  to  all  about  liim.  In  short,  his 
death  was,  like  his  life,  truly  pious;  yet  natural, 
easy,  and  unaffected.  Time,  I  think,  can  never  pro- 
duce a  more  eminent  example  of  reason  and  re- 
ligion than  he  was,  both  living  and  dying.'' 
8* 


SECTIOK    IV. 
JOHN   JANEWAY. 

John  Janeway  was  born  in  Hertfordshire,  in 
the  year  1633.  He  was  remarkable  for  his  piety 
and  love  of  mankind,  for  an  exemplary  conduct 
through  life,  and  a  happy,  triumphant  death. 

Before  he  was  thirteen  years  of  age,  he  had  made 
a  considerable  proficiency  in  the  mathematics,  in 
the  science  of  astronomy,  and  in  other  branches  of 
useful  literature.  At  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  was 
chosen  to  King's  College  in  Cambridge ;  and  when 
he  was  about  eighteen,  it  pleased  Divine  Goodness 
to  open  his  understanding,  and  discover  to  him, 
that  the  knowledge  of  his  Creator,  and  a  conscious- 
ness of  an  interest  in  his  love,  through  Jesus  Christ, 
was  infinitely  superior  to  every  attainment  and  pos- 
session of  this  world,  At  this  time,  he  became 
sensible  that  astronomy  surveys  but  a  molehill,  in 
comparison  of  the  great  objects  which  the  religion 
of  Jesus  contemplates. 

The  complacency  and  delight  which  he  found  in 
a  religious  life,  were  discernible  in  his  very  counte- 
nance. Though  he  had  a  just  sense  of  the  value  of 
learning   and   knowledge,  yet  he   now   "counted 


J  O  U  N     J  A  N  E  W  A  Y  .  179 

everything  but  as  dross  and  dung,  in  comparison  of 
the  knowledge  of  Christ,  and  him  crucified."  From 
this  period  of  his  life  to  the  conclusion  of  it,  he  con* 
tinued  to  rise  above  the  world,  and  to  labor  for 
purity  of  heart,  and  acceptance  in  the  Divine  sight. 

As  his  own  comforts  came  from  the  source  of  all 
consolation,  so  he  was  desirous  of  leading  others  to 
partake  of  that  fountain,  and  to  depend  upon  it  for 
support.  "  We  poor  foolish  creatures,"  said  he,  on 
a  particular  occasion,  '*  scarcely  know  what  is  good 
for  ourselves :  but  it  is  no  small  encouragement  to 
the  people  of  God,  that  wisdom  itself  is  their  guard; 
and  that  one  who  loves  them  better  than  they  love 
themselves,  cares  for  them." 

When  he  fell  into  a  decline,  and  had  but  little 
prospect  of  life,  he  was  far  from  being  alarmed  with 
the  view  of  his  dissolution.  "  I  am  ashamed,"  he 
said,  "to  desire  and  pray  for  life.  Is  there  any- 
thing here,  more  desirable  than  the  enjoyment  of 
Jesus  Christ  ?  Can  I  desire  anything  below  com- 
parable to  that  blessed  vision  ?  O  that  crown !  that 
rest  which  remains  for  the  people  of  God!  and, 
blessed  be  God,  I  can  say,  I  know  it  is  mine." 

It  was  his  custom  to  set  apart  an  hour  every  day, 
for  secret  retirement  and  solemn  meditation.  On 
one  of  these  occasions,  a  friend  of  his,  unknown  to 
him,  placed  himself  in  a  situation,  where  he  ob- 
served all  that  passed ;  and  his  remarks  on  the 
scene  before  him,  are  worthy  of  insertion.  "What 
a  spectacle  did  I  behold !     Surely,  a  man  walking 


180  JOHN     JANEWAY* 

with  God,  conversing  intimately  with  him,  and 
maintaining  a  holy  freedom  with  the  great  Jeho- 
vah. Methought  I  saw  a  spiritual  merchant  in  a 
heavenly  exchange,  pursuing  a  rich  trade  for  the 
treasures  of  the  other  world.  O  what  an  animating 
sight  it  was!  methinks  I  see  him  still.  How  lovely 
was  his  countenance!  His  looks,  and  smiles,  and 
every  motion,  spoke  him  to  be  upon  the  confines  of 
glory." 

He  was  full  of  love  and  compassion  to  the  souls 
of  men ;  and  often  greatly  lamented  the  barrenness 
of  Christians,  in   their   converse  with   each   other* 

"  O,"  said  he,  on  a  particular  occasion,  *'  to  spend 
an  hour  or  two  together,  and  to  hear  scarcely  a 
word  that  speaks  people's  hearts  in  love  with  holi- 
ness !  Where  is  our  love  to  God,  and  our  fellow- 
creatures,  all  this  while?  Where  is  our  sense  of 
the  preciousness  of  time?  of  the  greatness  of  our 
account  ?  Should  we  talk  thus,  if  we  believed  we 
should  hear  of  it  again  at  the  day  of  judgment? 
Does  not  this  speak  aloud  that  our  hearts  are  de- 
void of  grace ;  and  that  we  have  little  sense  of 
spiritual  and  eternal  concerns?" 

To  a  friend  who  visited  him,  and  who  spoke  of 
the  excellence  of  Christ,  and  of  the  glory  of  the  in- 
visible world,  he  replied:  "Ah!  I  feel  something 
of  it.  My  heart  is  as  full  as  it  can  hold  in  this 
lower  state." 

Though  he  was,  generally,  as  he  approached  his 
end,  in  a  triumphant  frame  of  spirit,  yet  he  expe- 


JOHN     J  ANEW  AY.  181 

rienced,  at  times,  some  variations:  and  in  these 
seasons,  he  used  to  say :  "  Hold  out,  faith  and  pa- 
tience, yet  a  little  while,  and  your  trial  will  be 

over." 

Near  the  close  of  life,  most  of  his  work  was 
praise.  Admiring  the  boundless  love  of  God  to 
him,  he  said;  *' O,  why  this  love  to  me,  Lord? 
why  to  me  ?  Praise  is  now  my  work,  and  I  shall 
be  engaged  in  that  sweet  employment  for  ever,  O, 
help  me  to  praise  him !  I  have  nothing  else  to  do. 
I  have  done  with  prayer ;  I  have  almost  done  with 
conversing  with  mortals.  I  shall  soon  behold  Christ 
himself,  who  died  for  me,  and  loved  me,  and  washed 
me  in  his  blood.  I  shall  shortly  be  in  eternity, 
singing  the  song  of  Moses,  and  the  song  of  the 
Lamb.  I  shall  presently  stand  upon  Mount  Sion, 
with  an  innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  the 
spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect.  I  shall  hear  the 
voice  of  multitudes,  and  be  one  amongst  them  who 
say,  *  Hallelujah!  salvation,  glory,  and  honor,  and 
power,  unto  the  Lord  our  God !'  " 

Thus  did  this  favored  and  happy  spirit  take  his 
leave  of  the  world,  and  rise  triumphant  to  the 
regions  of  bliss  and  immortality.  He  clied  in  the 
twenty-fifth  year  of  his  age. 


SECTION  V. 
EARL  OF  MARLBOROUQH- 

James,  Earl  of  Marlborough,  was  killed  in  a 
battle  at  sea,  on  the  coast  of  Holland,  in  the  year 
1665.  Not  long  before  his  death,  he  had  a  presen- 
timent of  it ;  and  wrote  to  his  friend.  Sir  Hugh 
Pollard,  a  letter,  of  which  the  following  is  an  ex- 
tract :— 

"  I  believe  the  goodness  of  your  nature,  and  the 
friendship  you  have  always  borne  mCy  will  receive 
with  kindness  the  last  office  of  your  friend.  I  am 
in  health  enough  of  body,  and,  through  the  mercy 
of  God  in  Jesus  Christ,  well  disposed  in  mind. 
This  I  premise^  that  you  may  be  satisfied  that  what 
I  write  proceeds  not  from  any  fantastic  terror  of 
mind,  but  from  a  sober  resolution  of  what  concerns 
myself,  and  an  earnest  desire  to  do  you  more  good 
after  my  death,  than  my  example,  (God  of  his 
mercy  pardon  the  badness  of  it  I)  in  my  lifetime, 
may  do  you  harm. 

"  I  will  not  speak  aught  of  the  vanity  of  this 
world  :  your  own  age  and  experience  will  save  that 
labor.  But  there  is  a  certain  thing  called  Religion, 
dressed  fantastically,  and  to  purposes  bad  enough. 


EARL     OF      MARLBOROUGH.  183 

which  yet,  by  such  evil  dealing,  losetli  not  its 
being.  The  great,  good  God  bath  not  left  it  with- 
out a  witness,  more  or  less,  sooner  or  later,  in 
every  man's  bosom,  to  direct  us  in  the  pursuit  of 
it ;  and  for  avoiding  those  inextricable  disquisitions 
and  entanglements,  our  own  frail  reason  would  per- 
plex us  with,  God,  in  his  infinite  mercy,  hath  given 
us  his  holy  word,  in  which,  as  there  are  many 
things  hard  to  be  understood,  so  there  is  enough 
plain  and  easy,  to  quiet  our  minds,  and  direct  us 
concerning  our  future  being,  I  confess  to  God 
and  you,  I  have  been  a  great  neglecter,  and,  I  fear, 
despiser  of  it :  God,  of  his  infinite  mercy,  pardon 
me  the  dreadful  fault !  But  when  I  retired  myself 
from  the  noise  and  deceitful  vanity  of  the  world,  I 
found  no  true  comfort  in  any  other  resolution  than 
what  I  had  from  thence.  I  commend,  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart,  the  same  to  your,  I  hope, 
happy  use. 

"  Dear  Hugh,  let  us  be  more  generous,  than  to 
believe  we  die  as  the  beasts  that  perish ;  but  with 
a  Christian,  manly,  brave  resolution,  look  to  what 
is  eternal.  The  only  great  and  holy  God,  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  direct  you  to  a  happy  end  of 
your  life,  and  send  us  a  joyful  resurrection.      So 

prays  your  true  friend, 

Maelborough." 

This  letter  marks  the  writer's  strong  sense  of 
the  importance  of  the  sacred  writings;    and   his 


184  EARL     OF     MARLBOROUGH 

deep  regret  for  having,  at  any  period,  treated  them 
with  indifierence.  When  our  pursuits  in  Ute,  our 
companions,  or  our  taste  for  a  particular  species  of 
reading,  occasion  us  to  contemn  or  neglect  tlie 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel, 
it  is  a  sad  proof  that  the  mind  has  begun  to  be 
perverted,  and  that  the  way  is  prepared  for  great 
depravity  of  heart.  Wliatever,  therefore,  tends  to 
lessen  our  esteem  for  those  venerable  and  highly 
interesting  communications  of  the  Divine  Will ;  or 
disinclines  us  to  the  perusal  and  study  of  them  ; 
should  be  regarded  w^ith  early  apprehension,  and 
avoided  with  the  utmost  solicitude. 

"The  Scriptures,"  says  Bishop  Home,  "are  avoh- 
derfal,  with  respect  to  the  matter  which  they  con- 
tain, the  manner  in  which  they  are  written,  and 
the  effects  which  they  produce.  They  contain  the 
sublimest  truths,  many  of  which  are  veiled  under 
external  ceremonies  and  figurative  descriptions. 
When  they  are  properly  opened  and  enforced,  they 
terrify  and  humble,  they  convert  and  transform, 
they  console  and  strengthen.  Who  but  must  de- 
light to  study,  and  to  observe  these  testimonies  of 
the  will  and  the  wisdona,  the  love  and  the  power  of 
God  most  high  !  While  we  have  these  holy  writ- 
ings, let  us  not  waste  onr  time,  misemploy  our 
thoughts,  and  prostitute  our  admiration,  by  doat- 
ing  on  human  follies,  and  wondering  at  human 
trifles." 


CHAPTER    VI 

Lady  Rachel  Russel— Jane  Ratcliffe — Sir  Isaac  New- 
ton—Bishop Burnet— John,  Earl  of  Rochester. 


SECTION    I. 
LADY    RACHEL    RUSSEL. 

Lady  Rachel  Russel,  daughter  of  the  earl  of 
Southampton,  was  born  about  the  year  1636.  She 
appears  to  have  possessed  a  truly  noble  mind,  a 
solid  understanding,  an  amiable  and  a  benevolent 
temper.  Her  pious  resignation,  and  religious  de- 
portment, under  the  pressure  of  very  deep  distress, 
afford  a  highly  instructive  example,  and  an  eminent 
instance  of  the  Power  of  Religion  to  sustain  the 
mind,  in  the  greatest  storms  and  dangers,  when 
the  waves  of  affliction  threaten  to  ovorwlielm  it. 

It  is  well  known,  that  the  husband  of  this  lady, 
William,  Lord  Russel,  was  beheaded  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  the  Second  ;  that  he  was  a  man  of  great 
merit ;  and  that  he  sustained  the  execution  of  his 
severe  sentence,  with  Christian  and  invincible  for- 


186  LADY      RACHEL      KUSSEL. 

titude.  During  tlie  period  of  h'er  illustrious  hus- 
band's troubles,  she  conducted  herself  with  a  mix- 
ture of  the  most  tender  affection,  and  the  most 
surprising  magnanimity.  She  appeared  in  court  at 
his  trial ;  and  when  the  attorney-general  told  him, 
"He  might  em})loy  the  hand  of  one  of  his  servants  in 
waiting,  to  take  notes  of  the  evidence  for  his  use," 
Lord  Kussel  answered,  "that  he  asked  none,  but 
that  of  the  lady  who  sat  by  him."  The  spectators, 
at  these  words,  turned  their  eyes,  and  beheld  the 
daughter  of  the  virtuous  Southampton  rising  up  to 
assist  her  lord  in  this  his  utmost  distress :  a  thrill 
of  anguish  ran  through  the  assembly.  After  his 
condemnation  she  threw  herself  at  the  king's  feet ; 
and  pleaded,  but  alas !  in  vain,  the  merits  and 
loyalty  of  her  father,  in  order  to  save  her  husband. 

When  the  time  of  separation  came,  her  condnct 
appears  to  be  worthy  of  the  highest  admiration  : 
for  without  a  sigh  or  tear,  she  took  her  last  fare- 
well of  her  husband,  though  it  might  have  been 
expected,  as  they  were  so  happy  in  each  other,  and 
no  wife  could  possibly  surpass  her  in  affection,  that 
the  torrent  of  her  distress  would  have  overflowed 
its  banks,  and  been  too  mighty  for  restraint. 

Lord  Russel  parted  from  his  lady  with  a  com- 
posed silence  :  and  observing  how  greatly  she  was 
supported,  said  after  she  was  gone :  "  The  bitter- 
ness of  death  is  now  past :"  for  he  loved  and 
esteemed  her  beyond  expression.  He  declared, 
that  *'  she  had  been  a  great  blessing  to  him ;  and 


LADY      RACHEL      RUSSEL.  187 

observed,  that  he  should  have  been  miserable,  if 
she  had  not  possessed  so  great  magnanimity  of 
spirit  joined  to  her  tenderness,  as  never  to  have 
desired  him  to  do  a  base  thing  to  save  his  life." 
He  said,  "there  was  a  si<j;nal  providence  of  God, 
in  giving  him  such  a  wife,  in  whom  were  united 
noble  birth  and  fortune,  great  understanding,  great 
religion,  and  great*  kindness  to  himself;  but  that 
her  behavior  in  his  extremity,  exceeded  all." 

After  the  death  of  her  lord  upon  the  scaffold, 
this  excellent  woman,  encompassed  with  the  dark- 
est clouds  of  affliction,  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  a 
religious  concern,  to  behave  properly  under  the 
afflicting  hand  of  God  ;  and  to  fulfill  the  duties  now 
devolved  upon  herself  alone,  in  the  care,  educa- 
tion, disposal,  and  happiness  of  her  children ;  those 
living  remains  of  her  lord,  which  had  been  so  dear 
to  him,  and  which  were,  for  his  sake,  as  well  as 
their  own,  so  dear  to  herself. 

The  following  short  extracts  from  a  few  of  her 
letters,  evince  the  humble  and  pious  frame  of  her 
mind ;  the  great  benefits  she  derived  from  her 
afflictions;  and  the  comfortable  hope  she  enter- 
tained of  her  future  rest  and  felicity  : — 

"  You,  my  friend,  who  knew  us  both,  and  how 
we  lived,  must  allow  I  have  just  cause  to  bewail  my 
loss.  I  know  it  is  common  with  others  to  lose  a 
friend  :  but  few  can  glory  in  the  happiness  of  hav- 
ing lived  with  such  a  one  ;  and  few,  consequently, 
can  lament  the  like  loss.     Who  but  must  shrink  at 


188  LADY    EACHEL    EUSSEL. 

such  a  blow,  till,  by  the  mighty  aid  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  they  let  the  gift  of  God,  which  he  has  put 
into  their  hearts,  interpose  ?  O !  if  I  did  stead- 
fastly believe,  I  could  not  be  dejected :  for  I  will 
not  injure  myself  to  say,  I  offer  my  mind  any  infe- 
rior consolation  to  supply  this  loss,  No ;  I  most 
willin<j^]y  forsake  this  world,  this  vexatious,  trouble- 
some world ;  in  which  I  have  no  other  business, 
than  to  rid  my  soul  from  sin,  and  secure  my  eternal 
interests ;  to  bear  with  patience  and  courage  my 
eminent  misfortunes,  and  ever  hereafter  to  be 
above  the  smiles  and  frowns  of  it :  and,  havino^  fin- 
ished  the  remnant  of  the  work  appointed  me  on 
earth,  joyfully  to  wait  for  the  heavenly  perfection 
in  God's  good  time  ;  when,  by  his  infinite  mercy,  I 
may  be  counted  worthy  to  enter  into  the  same 
place  of  rest  and  repose,  where  he  is  gone  for 
whom  I  grieve." 

"  The  future  part  of  my  life  will  not,  I  expect, 
pass  as  perhaps  I  would  choose.  Sense  has  long 
enough  been  satisfied  ;  indeed  so  long,  that  I  know  * 
not  how  to  live  by  faith  ;  yet  the  pleasant  stream, 
that  fed  it  near  fourteen  years  together,  being 
gone,  I  have  no  sort  of  refreshment,  but  when  I 
can  repair  to  that  living  Fountain,  whence  all 
flows ;  while  I  look  not  at  the  things  which  are 
seen,  but  at  those  which  are  not  seen,  expecting 
that  day  which  will  settle  and  compose  all  my 
tumultuous  thoughts,  in  perpetual  peace  and 
quiet." 


LADY   RACHEL   RUSSEL.       189 

"The  consideration  of  the  other  world  is  not 
only  very  great,  but  in  my  small  judgment,  the 
only  support  under  the  greatest  of  afflictions  that 
can  befall  us  here.  The  enlivening  heat  of  those 
glories  is  sufficient  to  animate  and  refresh  us,  in  our 
dark  passage  through  this  world :  and  notwith- 
standing I  am  below  the  meanest  of  God's  servants, 
and  have  not,  in  the  least  degree,  lived  answerably 
to  those  opportunities  I  have  had ;  yet  my  Media- 
tor is  my  judge,  and  he  will  not  despise  weak  be- 
ginnings, though  there  be  more  smoke  than  flame. 
He  will  help  us  in  believing  ;  and,  though  he  suffer 
us  to  be  cast  down,  will  not  cast  us  off,  if  we  com- 
mit our  cause  to  him. 

"  I  strive  to  reflect  how  large  my  portion  of 
good  things  has  been  :  and  though  they  are  passed 
away,  no  more  to  return,  yet  I  have  a  pleasant 
work  to  do,  to  dress  up  my  soul  for  my  desired 
change,  and  to  fit  it  for  the  converse  of  angels,  and 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect ;  among 
whom,  my  hope  is,  my  loved  lord  is  one ;  and  my 
often-repeated  prayer  to  God  is,  that  if  I  have  a 
reasonable  ground  for  that  hope,  it  may  give  re- 
freshment to  my  poor  soul." 

"  From  the  enticing  delights  of  the  world,  I  can, 
after  this  event,  be  better  weaned,  I  was  too  rich 
in  possessions,  while  I  possessed  him.  All  relish 
now  is  gone.  I  bless  God  for  it ;  and  pray  that  I 
may  more  and  more  turn  the  stream  of  my  affec- 
tions  upwards,  and   set  my  heart  upon  the  ever- 


190       LADY   RACHEL   EUSSEL. 

satisfying  perfections  of  God  ;  not  starting  at  his 
darkest  providences,  but  remembering  continually, 
that  either  his  glory,  justice,  or  power,  is  ad- 
vanced by  every  one  of  them,  and  that  mercy  is 
over  all  his  works ;  as  we  shall  one  day,  with 
ravishing  delight,  behold.  In  the  meantime,  I 
endeavor  to  suppress  all  wild  imaginations,  which 
a  melancholy  mind  is  apt  to  let  in  ;  and  to  say, 
with  the  man  in  the  Gospel,  '  I  believe ;  help  thou 
my  unbelief.'  " 

"  It  is  the  grace  of  God  which  disposes  me  to 
ask  for,  and  thirst  after,  such  comforts  as  the  world 
cannot  give.  What  comforts  it  can  give,  I  am  most 
sure  I  have  felt,  and  exjoerienced  to  be  uncertain 
and  perishing.  Such  I  will  never  more,  the  grace 
of  God  assisting,  look  after ;  and  yet  I  expect  a 
joyful  day,  after  some  mournful  ones ;  and  though 
I  walk  sadly  through  the  valley  of  death,  I  will 
fear  no  evil,  humbling  myself  under  the  mighty 
hand  of  God,  who  will  save  in  the  day  of  trouble. 
He  knows  my  sorrows,  and  the  weakness  of  my 
person :  I  commit  myself  and  mine  to  him.  The 
saddest  state  to  a  good  soul,  will  one  day  end  in 
rest.  This  is  my  best  comfort,  and  a  greater  we 
cannot  have ;  yet  the  degree  is  raised,  when  w^e 
consider  that  we  shall  not  only  rest,  but  live  in 
regions  of  unspeakable  bliss.  This  should  lead  us 
sweetly  through  the  dark  passage  of  the  w^orld ; 
and  suffer  us  to  start  at  nothing  we  either  meet 
with,  or  our  fears  suggest  may  happen  to  us." 


LADY     RACHEL     RUSSEL.  191 

To  Xady  Essex  she  wrote  as  follows :— "  I  Vo- 
seech  God  one  day  to  speak  peace  to  our  afflicted 
minds,  and  not  to  suffer  us  to  be  disappointed  of 
our  great  hope.     But  we  must  wait  for  our  day  of 
consolation,  till  this  world  passes  away :  an  unkind 
and  trustless  world  this  has  been  to  us.     Why  it 
has  been  such,  God  knows  best.     All  his  dispensa- 
tions serve  the  end  of  his  providence.     They  are 
ever  beautiful,   and  must  be  good,   and  good  to 
every  one  of  us ;  and  even  these  dismal  ones  are 
go  to  us,  if  we  can  bear  evidence  to  our  own  souls, 
that  we  are  better  for  our  afflictions  ;  which  is  often 
the   case  with  those  who   suffer  wrongfully.     We 
may  reasonably  beheve  our  friends  have  found  that 
rest  we  yet  but  hope  for ;  and  what  better  comfort 
can  you  or  I  desire,  in  this  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death  we  are  walking  through  ?     The  rougher  our 
path  is,  the  more  delightful  and  ravishing  will  be 
the  great  change." 

She  survived  Lord  Russel  above  forty  years: 
and  continued  his  widow  to  the  end  of  her  life. 
She  died  in  the  year  1723,  in  the  eighty-seventh 
year  of  her  age.  Her  continued  hope  and  trust  in 
HIM,  who  had  been  the  staff  of  her  life,  and  her 
support  in  affliction,  is  evidenced  by  the  following 
declaration,  made  not  long  before  the  end  of  her 
days  :  "  God  has  not  denied  me  the  support  of  his 
Holv  Spirit,  in  this  my  long  day  of  calamity,^  but 
he  has  enabled  me,  in  some  measure,  to  rejoice 
in  him  as  my  portion  for  ever.     He  has  provided 


192  LADY     EACHEL     RTJSSEL, 

a  remedy  for  all  our  griefs,  by  his  sure  promises 
of  another  life ;  where  there  is  no  death,  nor 
any  pain  nor  trouble,  but  fulness  of  joy,  in  the 
presence  of  him  who  made  us,  and  who  will  love 
us  for  ever," 


SECTION    II. 
JANE     RATCLIFFE. 

Jaxe  Ratcliffe  was  born  about  the  year  1600. 
Her  extraordinary  faith  and  piety  render  her  a  suit- 
able subject  for  these  memoirs. 

In  early  life,  she  indulged  herself  in  many  of  the 
follies  and  vanities  of  her  time ;  but  being  awak- 
ened to  a  sense  of  their  fatal  tendency,  she  re- 
nounced them  ;  and  placed  her  aifections  on  objects 
which  alone  can  confer  solid  and  durable  enjoy- 
ment. We  shall  pass  over  the  intermediate  parts 
of  her  circumspect  life,  and  come  to  the  closing 
scene  of  it,  when  she  appeared  to  be  much  raised 
above  the  love  of  life,  and  the  fears  of  death.  The 
following  is  an  extract  from  her  own  expressions, 
on  that  solemn  occasion.  At  the  same  time  that 
they  manifest  her  desire  to  be  released  from  the 
sorrows  and  dangers  of  mortality,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  Avas  limited  by  a  humble  submission, 
and  pious  resignation,  to  the  will  of  Heaven  : 

"  I  desire  to   die,"   said    she,  *'  because  I  want, 
while  I  live  here,  the   glorious  presence  of  God, 
which  I  love  and  long  for ;  and  the  sweet  fellow- 
ship of  angels  and  saints,  who  would  be  ni  glad  to 
9 


194  JANE      RATCLIFFE, 

see  me  witli  tbem,  as  I  should  be  to  see  them  about 
me  ;  and  who  would  entertain  me  with  unAvearied 
delight. 

"I  desire  to  die — because,  while  I  live,  I  shall 
want  the  perfection  of  my  nature,  and  be  as  an 
estranged  and  banished  child  from  my  father's 
house. 

"I  desire  to  die—because  I  would  not  live  to 
offend  so  good  a  God,  and  grieve  his  Holy  Spirit. 
For  his  loving-kindness  is  better  than  life,  and  he  is 
abundant  in  mercy  to  me  ;  and  the  fear  of  displeas- 
ing him  often  lies  as  a  heavy  load  upon  my  heart. 

"  I  desire  to  die — because  this  world  is  generally 
infected  with  the  plague  of  sin,  and  I  myself  am 
tainted  with  the  same  disease :  so  that,  while  I  live 
here,  I  shall  be  in  danger  of  being  infected,  or  of 
infecting  others.  And  if  this  world  hates  me,  be- 
cause I  endeavor  to  follow  goodness,  how  would  it 
rejoice,  if  my  foot  should  slip  !  How  woful  would 
my  life  be  to  me,  if  I  should  give  occasion  to  the 
world  to  triumph  and  blaspheme  !  There  are  in 
my  nature  so  many  defects,  errors,  and  transgres- 
sions, that  I  may  say  with  David,  'Innumerable 
evils  have  compassed  me  about :  my  iniquities  have 
taken  hold  on  me,  so  that  I  am  not  able  to  look  up.' 
I  therefore  desire  heaven  for  holiness,  and  to  the 
end  I  may  sin  no  more. 

"  I  desire  to  die — because  nothing  in  this  world 
can  give  me  solid  and  durable  contentment. 

"With  regard  to  my  children,  I  am  not  troubled; 


JANE      II  A  T  C  L  I  F  F  E  . 


195 


for  that  God  who  has  given  them  life  and  breath, 
and  all  they  have,  while  I  am  living,  can  provide 
for  thera  when  I  am  dead.  My  God  will  he  tlieir 
God,  if  they  be  his :  and  if  they  be  not,  what  com- 
fort would  it  be  for  rae  to  live  to  behold  it !  Life 
would  be  bitter  to  me,  if  I  should  see  them  dis- 
honor God,  whom  I  so  greatly  love. 

"  I  fear  not  death — because  it  is  but  the  separa- 
tion of  the  soul  from  the  body :  and  that  is  but  the 
shadow  of  the  body  of  death.  Whereas,  the  sep:v 
ration  of  the  soul  from  God  by  sin,  and  of  soul  and 
body  for  sin,  is  death  indeed. 

"  I  fear  not  death— because  it  is  an  enemy  that 
has  been  often  vanquished;  and  because  I  am 
armed  for  it ;  and  the  weapons  of  my  warfare  are 
mighty  through  God,  and  I  am  assured  of  victory. 
"  I  do  not  fear  death  for  the  pain  of  it ;  for  I  am 
persuaded  I  have  endured  as  great  pain  in  life,  as  I 
shall  find  in  death ;  and  death  will  cure  me  of  all 
sorts  of  pain.  Besides,  Christ  died  a  terrible  death, 
to  the  end  any  kind  of  death  might  be  blessed  to 
me.  And  that  God  who  has  greatly  loved  me  in 
life,  will  not  neglect  me  in  death  ;  but  will,  by  his 
Spirit,  succor  and  strengthen  me  all  the  time  of  the 
combat." 

For  her  comfort  in  her  last  hours,  she  put  into 
the  following  form,  some  memoirs  of  the  principal 
mercies  and  blessings  she  had  received  from  God : 

"  How  shall  I  praise  God  for  my  conversion  ?  for 
]u9  word,  both  in  respect  of  my  affection  to  it,  and 


196  JANE      EATCLIFFE. 

the  wonderful  comforts  I  liave  lificl  from  it?  for 
hearing  my  prayers  ?  for  godly  sorrow  ?  for  fellow- 
ship with  the  godly?  for  joy  in  the  Holy  Spirit? 
for  the  desire  of  death?  for  contempt  of  the  world  ? 
for  private  helps  and  comforts  ?  for  giving  me  some 
strength  against  my  sins?  for  preserving  me  from 
gross  evils,  both  before  and  after  my  calling  ?" 

In  her  last  sickness,  which  was  of  long  continu- 
ance, she  was  deeply  sensible  of  the  dangers  and 
miseries  that  attend  oar  progress  through  life ;  and 
often  implored  God  to  remove  her  into  a  better 
world,  saying,  in  the  words  of  David:  "Make  haste 
to  help  me,  O  Lord,  my  salvation !  Be  pleased,  O 
Lord,  to  deliver  me !  O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help 
me !"  And  she  was  relieved  in  the  tenderest  man- 
ner :  for  her  spirit  departed  from  the  body,  when  it 
was  thought  she  had  only  fallen  asleep.  She  died 
in  the  year  1638. 


SECTION     III. 
SIR    ISAAC    NEWTON. 

Sir  Isaac  Newtox,  a  most  celebrated  English 
philosopher  and  iiialheinatician,  and  one  of  the 
greatest  geniuses  that  ever  appeared  in  the  world, 
was  descended  from  an  ancient  family  in  Lincoln- 
shire, where  he  was  born,  in  the  year  1642.  His 
powers  of  mind  were  wonderfully  comprehensive 
and  penetrating.  Fontenelle  says  of  him,  that  "  in 
learning  mathematics,  he  did  not  study  Euclid,  who 
seemed  to  him  too  plain  and  simple,  and  unworthy 
of  taking  up  his  time.  He  understood  him  almost 
before  he  read  him:  a  cast  of  his  eye  on  the  con- 
tents of  the  theorems  of  that  great  mathematician, 
seemed  to  be  sufficient  to  make  him  master  of 
them."  Several  of  liis  works  mark  a  profundity 
of  thought  and  reflection,  that  has  astonished  the 
most  learned  men. 

He  was  highly  esteemed  by  the  university  of 
Cambridge ;  and  was  twice  chosen  to  represent 
that  place  in  Parliament.  He  was  also  greatly  fa- 
vored by  Queen  Anne,  and  by  George  the  First. 
The  princess  of  Wales,  afterwards  queen-consort  of 
England,  who  had  a  turn  for  philosophical  inquiries, 


198  SIR     ISAAC     NEWTON. 

used  frequently  to  propose  questions  to  him.  This 
princess  had  a  great  regard  for  him ;  and  often  de- 
clared that  she  thought  herself  happy  to  live  at  tlie 
same  time  as  he  did,  and  to  have  the  pleasure  and 
advantage  of  his  conversation. 

This  eminent  philosopher  was  remarkable  for  be- 
ing of  a  very  meek  disposition,  and  a  gi-eat  lover 
of  peace.  He  would  rather  have  chosen  to  remain 
in  obscurity,  tlian  to  have  the  serenity  of  his  days 
disturbed  by  those  storms  and  disputes,  which  ge- 
nius and  learning  often  draw  upon  those  wlio  are 
eminent  for  them.  We  find  him  reflecting  on  the 
controversy  respecting  his  optic  lectures,  (in  which 
he  had  been  almost  unavoidably  engaged,)  in  the 
following  terms :  "  I  blamed  my  own  imprudence, 
for  parting  with  so  real  a  blessing  as  my  quiet,  to 
run  after  a  shadow." 

The  amiable  quality  of  modesty  stands  very  con- 
spicuous in  the  character  of  this  great  man's  mind 
and  manners.  He  never  spoke,  either  of  himself 
or  others,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  give  the  most 
malicious  censurers  the  least  occasion  even  to  sus- 
pect him  of  vanity.  He  was  cnndid  and  affable, 
and  he  did  not  assume  any  airs  of  superiority  over 
those  with  whom  he  associated.  He  never  thought 
either  his  merit  or  his  reputation,  sufficient  to  ex- 
cuse him  from  any  of  the  common  offices  of  social 
life. 

Though  he  was  firmly  attached  to  the  Church  of 
England,  he  was  averse  to  the  persecution  of  the 


SIR      ISAAC      NEWTON 


199 


Non-conformists.     He  judged  of  men  by  their  con- 
duct :  and  the  true  schismatics,  in  liis  opinion,  were 
the  vicious  and  the  wicked.     This  liberality  of  sen- 
timent did  not  spring  from  the  want  of  religion ; 
for  he  was  thoroughly  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  ^ 
Revelation  :  and  amidst  the  great  variety  of  books, 
which  lie  had  constantly  before  him,  that  which  he 
loved  the  best,  and  studied  with  the  greatest  appli- 
cation, was  the  Bible.     He  was,  indeed,  a  truly  pious 
man  :  and  his  discoveries  concerning  the  frame  and 
system  of  the   universe,  were  applied  by  him  to 
demonstrate  the  being  of  a  God,  and  to  illustrate 
his  power  and  wisdom.     He  also  wrote  an  excellent 
discourse,  to  prove  that  the  remarkable  prophecy 
of  Daniel's  weeks,  was  an  express  prediction  of  the 
coming  of  the  Messiah,  and  that  it  was  fulfilled  in 
Jesus  Christ. 

The  testimony  of  the  pious  and  learned  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge to  the  most  interesting  part  of  this  great 
man'^s  character,  cannot  be  omitted  on  the  present 
occasion.  "According  to  the  best  information," 
says  he,  "  whether  public  or  private,  I  could  ever 
obtain,  his  firm  faith  in  the  Divine  Revelation,  dis- 
covered itself  in  the  most  genuine  fruits  of  substan- 
tial virtue  and  piety ;  and  consequently  gives  us  the 
justest  reason  to  conclude,  that  he  is  now  rejoicing 
in  the  happy  effects  of  it,  infinitely  more  than  all 
the  applause  which  his  philosophical  works  have 
procured  him,  though  they  have  commanded  a 
fame  lasting  as  the  world." 


200  SIR     ISAAC     NEWTON. 

The  disorder  of  which  he  died,  was,  at  times,  at- 
tended  with  paroxysms  so  severe  as  to  occasion 
large  drops  of  sweat  to  run  down  his  face.  In 
these  trying  circumstances,  he  was  never  heard  to 
utter  the  least  complaint,  nor  to  express  the  least 
impatience.  He  died  in  the  eighty-fifth  year  of  his 
age.  In  his  principles,  and  conduct  through  life, 
he  has  left  a  strong  and  comfortable  evidence,  that 
the  highest  intellectual  powers  harmonize  with  reli- 
gion and  virtue ;  and  that  there  is  nothing  in  Chris- 
tianity but  what  will  abide  the  scrutiny  of  the 
soundest  and  most  enlarged  understanding. 

How  great  and  satisfactory  a  confirmation  is  it 
to  the  sincere,  humble  Christian,  and  what  an  in- 
surmountable barrier  does  it  present  to  the  infidel, 
to  perceive,  in  the  list  of  Christian  believers,  the 
exalted  and  venerable  names  of  Bacon,  Boyle, 
Locke,  Newton,  Addison,  Lyttleton,  and  Jones ! 
men  Avho  must  be  acknowledged  to  be  ornaments 
of  human  nature,  when  we  consider  the  wide  com- 
pass of  their  abilities,  the  great  extent  of  their 
learning  and  knowledge,  and  their  piety,  their 
zeal  for  truth,  and  their  beneficence.  These  emi- 
nent characters  firmly  adhered  to  the  belief  of 
Christianity,  after  the  most  diligent  and  exact 
researches  into  the  life  of  its  Founder,  the  au- 
thenticity of  its  records,  the  completion  of  its  pro- 
phecies, the  sublimity  of  its  doctrines,  the  purity 
of  its  precepts,  and  the  arguments  of  its  adver- 
saries. 


SECTION    IV. 

BISHOP      BURNET. 

Gilbert  Burnet,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  was  born 
at  Edinburgh,  in  the  year  1643.  He  was  carefully 
educated  by  his  father;  and  liaving  a  strong  con- 
stitution and  a  prodigious  memory,  he  applied  him- 
self closely  to  study,  and  acquired  a  great  portion 
of  learning  and  knowledge,  which  he  seemed  to 
have  ready  for  all  occasions.  He  travelled  through 
France,  Italy,  and  Holland  ;  where  he  formed  con- 
nections with  many  of  the  greatest  persons  of  his 
time,  by  whom  he  was  much  respected  for  his  ta- 
lents and  virtues.  At  Amsterdam,  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  leading  men  of  the  different  per- 
suasions tolerated  in  the  Netherlands,  Calvinists, 
Arminians,  Lutherans,  Anabaptists,  Brownists,  Pa- 
pists, and  Unitarians ;  among  each  of  which,  he 
used  frequently  to  declare,  he  met  with  men  of 
such  unfeigned  piety  and  virtue,  that  he  became 
strongly  fixed  in  a  principle  of  universal  charity, 
and  an  invincible  abhorrence  of  all  severities  on 
account  of  religious  opinions. 

He  was  instrumental  in  promoting  the  Revolu- 
tion ;  and  lived  in  great  favor  with  William  and 
9* 


202  BISHOP      BURNET. 

Mary,  and  Queen  Anne.  He  distinguished  himself 
in  the  House  of  Lords,  by  declaring  for  moderate 
measures,  with  regard  to  the  clergy  who  scrupled 
to  take  the  oatlis;  and  for  a  toleration  of  the  Pro- 
testant dissenters.  He  composed  many  works, 
which  evince  his  desire  to  promote  the  cause  of 
piety  and  virtue.  "  The  History  of  his  own  Time," 
and  "  The  History  of  the  Reformation,"  have  been 
much  read ;  and  for  the  latter  he  received  the 
thanks  of  both  houses  of  Parliament.  His  account 
of  Lord  Rochester,  is  an  elegant  and  interesting 
performance  ;  and  a  striking  display  of  the  truth 
and  excellence  of  the  Christian  religion. 

The  last  five  or  six  years  of  his  life  lie  became 
more  abstracted  from  the  world  ;  and  he  seems  to 
have  derived  great  advantage  from  the  reflections 
which  this  leisure  produced.  The  following  senti- 
ments, solemnly  expressed  by  him  towards  the  con- 
clusion of  his  days,  are  so  illustrative  of  the  nature 
and  power  of  true  religion,  and  of  its  influence 
upon  his  own  mind,  that  they  claim  a  place  in  these 
memorials ; 

"  I  shall  conclude  with  recommending  to  all  sorts 
of  men,  in  the  most  solemn  and  serious  manner, 
the  study  and  practice  of  religion,  as  that  which  is 
the  most  important  of  all  things,  and  which  is  both 
the  light  of  the  world,  and  the  salt  of  the  earth. 

"Nothing  so  opens  our  faculties  and  composes 
and  directs  the  whole  man,  as  an  inward  sense  of 
God ;  of  his  authority  over  us  ;  of  the  laws  he  has 


BISHOP      BURNET.  203 

set  us ;  of  his  eye  ever  upon  us ;  of  his  hearing 
our  prayers ;  assisting  our  endeavors  ;  watching  over 
our  concerns;  of  his  being  to  judge,  and  reward 
or  punish  us  in  another  state  according  to  what  we 
have  done  in  this.  Nothing  will  give  us  such  a 
detestation  of  sm,  and  such  a  sense  of  the  good- 
ness of  God,  and  of  our  obligations  to  hohness,  as 
a  right  understanding  and  firm  belief  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion. 

"  By  living  according  to  the  rules  of  religion,  a 
man  becomes  the  wisest,  the  best,  and  the  happi- 
est creature  that  he  is  capable  of  being.  Honest 
industry,  the  employing  of  time  well,  a  constant 
sobriety,  an  undefiled  purity  and  chastity,  with  con- 
tinued serenity,  are  the  best  preservatives  too  of 
life  and  health  :  so  that  take  a  man  as  an  indivi- 
dual, religion  is  his  guard,  his  perfection,  his  beau- 
ty, and  his  glory.  This  will  make  him  a  light  in 
the  world,  shining  brightly,  and  enlightening  many 
round  about  him. 

"Thus,  religion,  if  truly  received  and  sincerely 
adhered  to,  would  prove  the  greatest  of  all  bles-^ 
sings  to  a  nation.  But,  by  religion,  I  understand 
something  more  than  receiving  particular  doc- 
trines, though  ever  so  true,  or  professing  them,  and 
engaging  to  support  them,  even  with  zeal  and 
eagerness.  What  signify  the  best  doctrines,  if 
men  do  not  live  suitably  to  them  ;  if  they  have  not 
a  due  influence  upon  their  thoughts  and  their  lives? 
Men   of  bad  lives,  with  sound    opinions,    are    self- 


204  BISHOP     BtlRNET. 

condemned,  and  lie  under  a  highly-aggravated 
guilt. 

"  By  religion,  I  do  not  mean  an  outward  com- 
pliance with  forms  and  customs,  in  going  to  church, 
to  prayers,  to  sermons,  and  to  sacraments,  with  an 
external  shov/  of  devotion  ;  or,  which  is  more, 
with  some  inward  forced  good  thoughts,  in  which 
many  satisfy  themselves,  while  these  have  no  visible 
effect  on  their  lives ;  nor  any  inward  force  to  con- 
trol and  rectify  their  a23petites,  passions  and  secret 
designs.  These  customary  performances,  how  good 
and  useful  soever  when  understood  and  rightly  di- 
rected, are  of  little  value  when  men  rest  on  them, 
and  think,  because  they  do  them,  they  have  ac- 
quitted themselves  of  their  duty,  though  they  still 
continue  proud,  covetous,  full  of  deceit,  envy,  and 
malice.  Even  secret  jirayers,  the  most  effectual 
means,  are  designed  for  a  higher  end  ;  which  is,  to 
possess  our  minds  vvith  such  a  constant  and  present' 
sense  of  Divine  truths,  as  may  make  these  live  in 
us,  and  govern  us,  and  draw  down  such  assistance, 
as  to  exalt  and  sanctify  our  natures. 

*'  So  that,  by  religion,  I  mean  such  a  sense  of 
Divine  truth  as  enters  into  a  man,  and  becomes  the 
spring  of  a  new  nature  within  him ;  reforming  his 
thoughts  and  designs ;  purifying  his  heart ;  sancti- 
fying and  governing  his  whole  deportment,  his 
words  as  well  as  his  actions ;  convincing  him  that 
it  is  not  enough  not  to  be  scandalously  vicious,  or 
to  be  innocent  in  his  conversation  j  but   that   he 


BISHOP      BURNET.  205 

must  be  entirely,  uniformly,  and  constantly,  pure 
and  virtuous,  animated  with  zeal  to  be  still  better 
and  better,  more  eminently  good  and  exemjDlary. 

"  This  is  true  religion,  which  is  the  perfection  of 
human  nature,  and  the  joy  and  delight  of  every 
one  that  feels  it  active  and  strong  within  him.  It 
is  true,  this  is  not  arrived  at  all  at  once ;  and  it 
will  have  an  unhappy  alloy,  hanging  long  even 
about  a  good  man  :  but,  as  those  ill  mixtures  are 
the  perpetual  grief  of  his  soul,  so  that  it  is  his 
chief  care  to  watch  over  and  to  mortify  them,  he 
will  be  in  a  continual  progress,  still  gaining  ground 
upon  himself;  and  as  he  attains  to  a  degree  of  pu- 
rity, he  will  find  a  nobler  flame  of  life  and  joy 
growing  up  in  him.  Of  this  I  write  with  a  greater 
concern  and  emotion,  because  I  have  felt  it  to  be 
the  true,  and,  indeed,  the  only  joy  which  runs 
through  a  man's  heart  and  life.  It  is  this  which 
has  been,  for  many  years,  my  greatest  support.  I 
rejoice  daily  in  it.  I  feel  from  it  the  earnest  of 
that  supreme  joy  which  I  want  and  long  for  ;  and 
I  am  sure  there  is  nothing  else  which  can  afford 
any  true  and  complete  happiness." 


SECTION    Y. 

LORD    ROOHKSTER. 

John  Wilmot,  afterwards  earl  of  Rochester, 
was  born  in  1647,  at  Ditchley,  in  Oxfordshire, 
After  his  education  was  completed,  he  travelled 
into  France  and  Italy ;  and,  at  his  return,  devoted 
himself  to  the  court,  and  was  in  great  favor  wdtb 
Charles  the  Second.  He  had  very  early  an  inclina- 
tion to  intemperance,  which  he  seemed  to  have 
totally  subdued  in  his  travels  ;  but  afterwards 
falling  into  dissolute  and  vicious  company,  he  gave 
way  to  his  former  propensity ;  and  became  corrupt 
in  his  principles,  and  depraved  in  his  manners.  He 
lost  all  sense  of  religious  restraint ;  and,  finding  it 
not  convenient  to  admit  the  authority  of  laws 
which  he  was  resolved  not  to  obey,,  sheltered  his 
wickedness  behind  infidelity. 

As  he  excelled  in  that  noisy  and  licentious  merri- 
ment which  wine  excites,  his  companions  eagerly 
encouraged  him  in  excess,  and  he  willingly  in- 
dulged it ;  till,  as  he  confessed  to  Dr.  Burnet,  he 
was  for  five  years  together  so  much  inflamed  by 
frequent  ebriety,  as  in  no  intei-val  to  be  master  of 
himself. 


LORD      ROCHESTER.  207 

Thus,  in  a  coarse  of  drunken  gayety,  and  gross 
tsensuality,  with  seasons  of  study  perhaps  yet  more 
criminal,  with  an  avowed  contempt  of  all  decency 
and  order,  a  total  disregard  to  every  moral,  and  a 
resolute  denial  of  every  religious  obligation,  he 
lived  worthless  and  useless,  and  blazed  out  his 
youth  and  his  health  in  lavish  voluptuousness  ;  till, 
at  the  age  of  one-and-thirty,  he  had  nearly  ex- 
hausted the  fund  of  life,  and  had  reduced  himself 
to  a  state  of  weakness  and  decay. 

At  this  time  he  was  led  to  an  acquaintance  with 
Dr.  Burnet,  to  whom  he  laid  open  with  great  free- 
dom the  tenor  of  his  opinions  and  the  course  of  his 
life ;  and  from  M'hom  he  received  such  conviction 
of  the  reasonableness  of  moral  duty,  and  the  truth 
of  Christianity,  as,  by  the  Divine  blessing,  pro- 
duced a  total  change  both  of  his  manners  and 
opinions.  Some  philosophers  of  the  present  age 
will  probably  suppose,  that  his  contrition  and  con- 
viction were  purely  the  effects  of  weakness  and  low 
spirits,  which  scarcely  suffer  a  man  to  continue  in 
his  senses,  and  certainly  not  to  be  master  of  him- 
self: but  Dr.  Burnet  affirms,  that  he  was  "  under 
no  such  decay  as  either  darkened  or  weakened  his 
understanding  ;  nor  troubled  with  the  spleen  or 
vapors,  or  under  the  power  of  melancholy."  In 
propf  of  this  assertion,  the  following  letter  is  pro- 
duced ;  in  which  nothing  is  omitted  but  some  per 
gonal  compliments  to  the  Doctor ; 


208  L  O  K  I>      R  a  C  II  E  S  T  E  R  , 

"  Woodstock  Pakk,  Oxfordshire. 

"  My  Most  Honored  Dr.  Burnet, 

"  My  spirits  and  body  decay  equally  together: 
but  weak  as  I  am  in  person,  I  shall  write  you  a 
letter.  If  God  be  yet  pleased  to  spare  me  longer 
in  this  world,  I  hope,  by  your  conversation,  to  be 
exalted  to  such  a  degree  of  piety,  that  the  world 
may  see  how  much  I  abhor  what  I  so  long  loved, 
and  how  much  I  glory  in  repentance,  and  in  God's 
service.  Bestow  your  prayers  upon  me,  that  God 
would  spare  me,  if  it  be  his  good  will,  to  show  a 
true  repentance  and  amendment  of  life  for  the 
time. to  come  ;  or  else,  if  the  Lord  please  soon  to 
put  an  end  to  my  worldly  being,  that  he  would 
mercifully  accept  of  my  death-bed  repentance ;  and 
perform  that  promise  he  has  been  pleased  to  make, 
that  at  what  time  soever  a  sinner  doth  repent,  he 
would  receive  him.  Put  up  these  prayers,  most 
dear  Doctor,  to  Almighty  God,  for  your  most 
obedient,  languishing  servant, 

"  Rochester. 

"June  25,  1680." 

Soon  after  the  receipt  of  this  letter.  Dr.  Burnet 
visited  him.  Lord  Rochester  expressed  to  him  in 
strong  terms,  the  sense  he  had  of  his  past  life  ;  his 
sad  apprehension  for  having  so  offended  his  Maker 
and  dishonored  his  Redeemer;  the  horrors  he  had 
gone  through  ;  the  sincerity  of  his  repentance;  and 
the  earnestness  with  which  his  mind  was  turned  to 


LORD      KOCH  ESTER.  209 

call  on  God,  and  on  his  crucified  Saviour,  to  have 
mercy  upon  him. 

Discoursing  one  day  of  the  manner  of  his  life 
from  his  youth,  and  bitterly  upbraiding  himself 
for  his  manifold  transgressions,  he  exclaimed,  "  O 
blessed  God  !  can  such  a  horrid  creature  as  I  am, 
who  have  denied  thy  being,  and  contemned  thy 
power,  be  accepted  by  thee  ?  Can  there  be  mercy 
and  pardon  for  me  ?  Will  God  own  such  a  wretch 
as  I  am  ?"  About  the  middle  of  his  sickness,  he 
said  :  "  Shall  the  unspeakable  joys  of  heaven  be 
conferred  on  me  ?  O,  mighty  Saviour  !  never,  but 
through  thy  infinite  love  and  satisfaction  !  O 
never,  but  by  the  purchase  of  thy  blood  !" 

From  the  first  of  his  yielding  assent  to  the 
truths  of  the  Christian  religion,  his  faith  seemed 
sincere  and  fervent.  He  highly  reprobated  "  that 
foolish  and  absurd  philosophy,  propagated  by  the 
late  Hobbes  and  others,  which  the  world  so  much 
admired,  and  which  had  undone  him,  and  many 
persons  of  the  best  parts  in  the  nation."  His  hope 
of  salvation  rested  solely  on  the  free  grace  of  God, 
through  Jesus  Christ.  He  often  prayed  that  his 
faith  might  be  strengthened,  and  cried  out,  "  Lord, 
I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

He  expressed  great  esteem  for  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, and  resolved  that  if  God  should  spare  him, 
he  would  frequently  read  them,  and  meditate  upon 
them :  "  for,  having  spoken  to  his  heart,  ho 
acknowledged    that   all   the    seeming    absurdities 


210  LORD     ROCHESTER. 

and  contradictions,  which  men  of  corrupt  and 
reprobate  judgment  supposed  to  be  in  them, 
were  vanished:  and  now  that  he  loved  and  re- 
ceived the  truth,  their  beauty  and  excellence 
appeared." 

He  frequently  implored  God's  Holy  Spirit  to 
comfort  and  support  him,  to  preserve  him  from 
wicked  thoughts  and  suggestions,  and  from  every 
thing  j)rejudicial  to  that  religious  temper  of  mind 
with  which  he  was  now  so  happily  endued.  One 
night,  having  been  much  disturbed  by  evil  imagi- 
nations, "  I  thank  God,"  said  he,  "  I  ablior  them 
all.  By  the  power  of  his  grace,  which  I  am 
sure  is  sufficient  for  me,  I  have  overcome  them. 
It  is  the  malice  of  the  devil,  because  I  am  res- 
cued from  him,  that  thus  troubles  me  ;  but  the 
goodness  of  God  frees  me  from  all  my  spiritual 
enemies." 

He  often  called  for  his  children,  and  spoke  to 
them  with  a  warmth  of  feeling  that  can  scarcely  be 
described.  "  See,"  said  he  to  Dr.  Burnet,  "  how 
good  God  has  been  to  me,  in  giving  me  so  many 
blessings  !  and  yet  I  have  been  a  most  ungracious 
and  unthankful  creature!"  He  expressed  much 
concern  for  the  pious  education  of  his  children  ; 
and  "  wished  his  son  might  never  be  a  wit ;  one  of 
those  wretched  croatui-es,"  as  he  explained  it, 
"who pride  themselves  in  denying  the  being  or  the 
providence  of  God,  and  in  ridionliiig  religion  ;  but 
that  he  might  become  an  honest  and  a  pious  man, 


LORD     KOCIIESTEK.  211 

by  which  means  only  he  could  be  the  support  and 
blessing  of  his  family." 

He  gave  a  strict  charge  to  the  persons  in  whose 
custody  his  papers  were,  to  burn  all  liis  obscene 
and  filthy  pictures,  which  were  so  notoriously  scan- 
dalous ;  and  all  his  profane  and  lewd  writings,  by 
■which  he  had  so  highly  offended,  and  shamed,  and 
blasphemed,  that  holy  religion  into  which  he  had 
been  baptized. 

He  was  ready  to  make  restitution,  to  the  utmost 
of  his  power,  to  all  persons  whom  he  had  injured; 
and  heartily  forgave  all  the  wrongs  which  he  had 
sustained,  hoping  that  he  should  meet  with  the  like 
free  forgiveness  from  God. 

He  expressed  a  tender  concern  for  his  servants, 
and  those  who  attended  him  ;  and  earnestly  ex- 
horted them  to  love  and  fear  God.  To  a  gentle- 
man of  some  character,  who  came  to  see  him  on 
his  death-bed,  he  said :  "  O  remember  that  you 
contemn  God  no  more.  He  is  an  avenging  God, 
and  will  visit  you  for  your  sins ;  and  will,  I  hope, 
in  mercy,  touch  your  conscience,  sooner  or  later,  as 
he  has  done  mine.  You  and  I  have  been  friends 
and  sinners  together  a  great  while,  and  therefore 
I  am  the  more  free  with  you.  We  have  been  all 
mistaken  in  our  conceits  and  opinions  :  our  persua- 
sions have  been  false  and  groundless :  therefore 
God  grant  you  repentance."  And  seeing  the  same 
gentleman  the  next  day,  he  said,  "  Perhaps  you 
were  disobliged  by  my  plainness  with  you  yester- 


212  LORD     ROCHESTER. 

day.  I  spoke  the  words  of  truth  and  soberness  :'* 
and  striking  his  hand  upon  his  breast,  he  added, 
"  I  hope  God  will  touch  your  heart." 

He  was  very  desirous  to  testify  to  the  world  his 
repentance  for  his  past  misconduct;  and  to  make 
every  reparation  in  his  power  for  the  mischief, 
which,  by  his  example  and  writings,  he  had  occa- 
sioned. He  sent  messages,  which  well  became  a 
dying  penitent,  to  some  of  his  former  friends.  He 
strictly  enjoined  the  pious  persons  who  attended 
him  during  his  last  sickness,  to  publish  any  thing 
concerning  him  that  might  be  a  means  to  reclaim 
others ;  praying  to  God,  that,  as  his  life  had  done 
much  hurt,  so  his  death  might  do  some  good.  He 
caused  the  following  solemn  declaration  to  be 
drawn  up,  which  he  signed  with  his  own  hand : 

"  For  the  benefit  of  all  those  whom  I  may  have 
drawn  into  sin,  by  my  example  and  encourage- 
ment, I  leave  to  the  world  this  my  last  declaration, 
which  I  deliver  in  the  presence  of  the  great  God, 
who  knows  the  secrets  of  all  hearts,  and  before 
whom  I  am  preparing  to  be  judged ;  that,  from 
the  bottom  of  ray  soul,  I  detest  and  abhor  the 
whole  course  of  my  former  wicked  life  ;  that  T 
think  I  can  never  sufficiently  admire  the  goodness 
of  God,  who  has  given  me  a  true  sense  of  my 
pernicious  opinions  and  vile  practices,  by  which  I 
have  hitherto  lived,  without  hope,  and  without 
God  in  the  world ;  have  been  an  open  enemy  to 


LOKD      KOCHESTEK.  213 

Jesus  Christ,  doing  the  utmost  despite  to  tlie  holy 
Spirit  of  Grace ;  and  that  the  greatest  testimony 
of  my  charity  to  such  is,  to  warn  them  in  the  name 
of  God,  and  as  they  regard  the  welfare  of  their 
immortal  souls,  no  more  to  deny  his  being  or  his 
providence,  or  despise  his  goodness ;  no  more  to 
make  a  mock  of  sin,  or  contemn  the  pure  and 
excellent  religion  of  my  ever  blessed  Redeemer, 
through  whose  merits  alone,  I,  one  of  the  greatest 
of  sinners,  do  yet  hope  for  mercy  and  forgiveness. 
Amen. 

"  J.  Rochester. 
"  Declared  and  signed  in  the  presence  of 
"  AxN  Rochester, 
"Robert  Parsons.'* 

His  sufferings  were,  at  times,  very  great ;  but  he 
did  not  repine  under  them.  In  one  of  his  sharpest 
fits  of  pain,  looking  up  to  heaven,  he  said  :  "  God's 
holy  will  be  done.  I  bless  him  for  all  he  does  to 
me." 

He  expressed  his  willingness  to  live,  or  to  die,  as 
it  should  please  Divine  Providence.  "  If,"  said  he, 
"  God  should  spare  me  yet  a  little  longer  time 
here,  I  hope  to  bring  glory  to  his  name,  propor- 
tionable to  the  dishonor  I  have  done  him,  in  my 
whole  life  past :.  and  particularly,  by  endeavors  to 
convince  others  of  the  danirer  of  their  condition, 
if  they  continue  impenitent ;  and  by  telling  them 
how  graciously  God  has  dealt  with  me." 


214  LORD      ROCHESTER. 

Near  the  close  of  life,  he  was  often  heard  to 
pray  fervently.  He  rejoiced  in  the  comfortable 
persuasion  of  acceptance  with  God.  A  few  days 
before  his  decease,  he  said :  "  I  shall  now  die. 
But  O,  what  unspeakable  glories  do  I  see  !  What 
joys,  beyond  thought  or  expression,  am  I  sensible 
of!  I  am  assured  of  God's  mercy  to  me,  through 
Jesus  Christ.  0  !  how  I  long  to  die,  and  to  be 
with  my  Saviour!" 

Thus  died,  in  the  thirty-tliird  year  of  his  age, 
the  celebrated  earl  of  Rochester ;  a  memorable 
instance  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  and 
of  the  power  of  his  grace  to  purify  and  redeem  the 
most  corrupt  and  obdurate  oifender.  From  this 
case,  and  from  many  other  instances,  the  truly 
penitent  sinner,  though  his  sins  have  been  as  scar- 
let or  as  crimson,  may  derive  hope  that  God  will, 
even  in  his  greatest  extremity,  hear  his  prayers, 
and  accept  his  repentance :  but  none  should  pre- 
sume on  the  Divine  Mercy,  by  deferring  their 
amendment  till  they  are  brought  to  the  bed  of 
sickness  and  death.  They  may  suddenly  be  taken 
away ;  they  may  not  have  their  understanding  in 
the  time  of  illness ;  they  may  be  deceived  with 
false  hopes  of  recovery ;  their  pains  of  body  may 
not  admit  of  that  state  of  mind  which  is  proper  for 
the  great  work  of  repentance  ;  or,  they  may  have 
become  so  hardened  by  the  habits  of  sin,  that  they 
may  die,  as  many  have  died,  without  a  proper 
sense  of  their  condition.     May  the  goodness  and 


LOKD      ROCIIESTEK.  215 

forbearance  of  God  lead  to  repentance  and  amend- 
ment of  life,  in  the  time  of  health !  We  shall  then, 
at  the  approach  of  death,  have  no  guilty  tumults 
of  mind  :  no  dismal  forebodings  of  the  future.  We 
shall  bear  our  affliction  with  patience  and  resigna- 
tion :  and,  with  joyful  hope,  commit  our  spirits 
into  the  hands  of  a  faithful  and  merciful  Creator. 

For  a  further  account  of  Lord  Rochester,  we 
refer  the  reader  to  a  small  A^olume  published  by 
Dr.  Burnet,  entitled,  "  Some  Passages  of  the  Life 
and  Death  of  John,  Earl  of  Rochester ;"  "  a  book, 
Avhich,"  as  Dr.  Johnson  says,  "  the  critic  ought  to 
read  for  its  elegance,  the  j^hilosopher  for  its  argu- 
ments, and  the  saint  for  its  piety." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

Queen  Mart — Herman  Boerhaave — Joseph  Addison — Ann 
Baynard — Elizabeth  Rowe — Doctor  Watts. 


SECTION    I. 
QUEEN     MARY 


Maey,  queen  of  Great  Britain,  and  consort  of 
King  William  the  Third,  was  the  daughter  of 
James  the  Second,  and  was  born  in  the  year  1661. 
She  appeared  to  be  happily  disposed  from  very 
early  life,  being  good  and  gentle  before  she  was 
capable  of  knowing  that  it  was  her  duty  to  be  so. 
This  temper  continued  with  her  through  the  whole 
progress  of  her  childhood.  She  might  need  in- 
struction, but  she  wanted  no  persuasion.  And  it 
is  said,  that  she  never  once,  in  the  whole  course 
of  her  education,  gave  occasion  for  reproof.  Be- 
sides a  most  amiable  sweetness  of  temper,  she  pos- 
sessed great  understanding,  and  a  mind  cultivated 
with  useful  learning  and  knowledge. 

She  was  married  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  her  age, 


QUEEN     MARY.  217 


to  the  prinee  of  Orange,  find  went  to  reside  in  Hol- 
land, where  she  conducted  herself  with  so  much 
wisdom  and  goodness,  as  to  gain  universal  esteem 
and  affection.  But  that  which  was,  beyond  all 
comparison,  her  greatest  ornament  and  possession, 
was  a  truly  devout  and  reli^iour^  temper ;  which 
made  her  look  with  indifference  on  the  honors  and 
splendor  with  which  she  was  surrounded,  and  seek 
for  her  highest  enjoyment  in  doing  good,  in  peace 
of  mind,  and  in  the  hope  of  a  better  life. 

In  proof  of  her  uncommon  merit,  we  shall  here 
insert  a  short  declaration  concerning  her,  made  by 
her  husband,  king  William,  whom  she  tenderly 
loved,  and  who  best  knew  her  excellence,  and  his 
own  great  loss  in  being  deprived  of  her.  To  Doc- 
tor Tenison,  who  endeavored  to  comfort  him  after 
her  death,  he  observed:  "I  cannot  but  grieve, 
since  I  have  lost  a  wife,  who  in  seventeen  years, 
never  was  guilty  of  an  indiscretion.  During  tlic 
whole  course  of  our  marriage,  I  never  perceived 
the  least  fault  in  her.  She  possessed  a  worth  that 
nobody  thoroughly  knew  but  myself." 

In  the  character  of  lady  Russel,  we  have  seen 
.  the  power  and  operation  of  religion  on  the  mind, 
under  some  of  the  darkest  clouds  of  affliction  and 
distress:  in  the  present  instance  of  queen  Mary, 
the  virtue  and  preserving  nature  of  the  same  Di- 
vine principle,  is  evidenced  amidst  the  magnificence 
of  a  court,  and  the  sunshine  of  worldly  prosperity. 
It  is,  indeed,  a  principle  of  universal  agency;  adapt- 
10 


218  QUEEN     MARY. 

ed  to  all  ranks  of  men,  and  to  every  allotment  of 
Providence ;  a  sure  preservative  when  things  are 
smiling  around  us,  and  a  sovereign  remedy  for,  or 
support  nnder,  all  the  calamities  of  life. 

This  good  queen  spent  a  great  part  of  her  time 
in  pei-using  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  other  religious 
books.  By  a  letter  to  her  father,  written  in  early 
life,  in  support  of  the  Protestant  faith,  she  appears 
to  have  been  thoroughly  grounded  and  established 
in  the  principles  of  the  Reformation.  Bishop  Bur- 
net says,  that  "  although  he  had  a  high  opinion  of 
the  princess's  good  understanding,  before  he  saw 
this  letter,  yet  the  letter  surprised  him,  and  gave 
him  an  astonishing  joy,  to  see  so  young  a  person,  all 
on  a  sudden,  without  consulting  any  one,  able  to 
write  in  so  solid  and  learned  a  manner." 

Her  talents  and  abilities  were  very  conspicuous 
in  all  her  concerns,  and  particularly,  in  the  import- 
ant charge  of  government.  Doctor  Tillotson,  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  said,  that  "he  was  in  great 
admiration  at  the  proofs  he  knew  the  queen  gave 
of  her  knowledge,  in  the  weighty  affiairs  of  state,  in 
the  king's  absence,  when  the  executive  part  of  the 
government  was  in  her  hands." 

Her  compassion  and  bounty  to  the  poor  and  af- 
flicted, and  those  who  stood  in  need  of  her  liberal- 
ity, were  very  eminent,  and  such  as  corresponded 
with  her  exalted  station,  and  the  abundant  sources 
of  relief  to  which  she  had  access.  She  took  care  to 
have  a  just  account  both  of  the  worthiness  and  the 


QUEEN      MARY.  219 

necessities  of  those  who  were  candidates  for  lier 
liberality ;  and,  in  the  conducting  of  her  charity, 
sliowed  as  miicli  exactness,  attention,  and  diUgencc, 
as  if  she  had  no  cares  of  a  higher  nature.  But  what 
crowned  all,  was  her  exact  conformity  to  the  rule 
of  the  Gospel  in  her  munificence  :  for  none  knew  to 
whom,  or  what  she  gave,  but  those  whom  she  was 
obliged  to   employ   in  the   communication   of  her 

bounty. 

The  piety  of  this  excellent  person  was  a  noble 
support  to  her  under  the  troubles  of  life:  yet  there 
.were  some  distresses  to  which  it  gave  a  sharper 
edge.  The  impieties  and  blasphemies,  the  open 
contempt  of  religion,  and  the  scorn  of  virtue,  which 
she  heard  of  from  many  persons,  and  from  many 
different  i)arts  of  the  nation,  gave  her  a  secret  hor- 
ror ;  and  presented  her  with  so  gloomy  a  prospect, 
as  filled  her  mind  with  melancholy  reflections.  -She 
was  very  sensibly  touched,  when  she  heard  that 
some,  who  pretended  to  much  zeal  for  the  crown 
and  the  revolution,  seemed  thence  to  think  they 
had  a  sort  of  right  to  be  indulged  in  their  licen- 
tiousness and  irregularities.  She  often  said,  "  Can 
a  blessing  be  expected  from  such  hands,  or  on  any- 
thing that  must  pass  through  them?" 

She  had  a  just  esteem  for  all  persons  whom  she 
thought  truly  religious  and  virtuous ;  and  no  other 
considerations  wx're  much  regarded  by  her,  when 
these  excellencies  were  not  to  be  found.  Next  to 
open  impiety,  the  w^aut  of  life  in  those  who  pre- 


220  QUEEN     MAEY. 

tended  to  religion,  and  the  deadness  and  disunion 
of  the  Protestants  in  general,  very  much  aifected 
her;  and  she  often  said,  with  poignant  regret: 
"  Can  such  dry  bones  live  ?" 

So  far  was  she  from  entertaining  a  high  opinion 
of  herself,  that  she  had  a  tender  sense  of  anything 
that  looked  like  a  miscarriage  under  her  conduct ; 
and  was  afraid  lest  some  mistake  of  hers  might 
have  occasioned  it.  When  difficulties  grew  too 
great  to  be  surmounted,  and  she  felt  uneasy  under 
them,  she  made  God  her  refuge;  and  often  said, 
that  ■'  she  found  herself  tranquil,  after  she  had 
poured  forth  her  soul  in  prayer."  When  melan- 
choly events  came  from  the  hand  of  Providence, 
she  said,  that  "  though  there  was  no  occasion  for 
complaint  or  anger,  upon  these  cross  occurrences, 
yet  there  was  just  cause  of  grief,  since  God's  hand 
was  to  be  seen  so  particularly  in  them." 

In  her  brightest  seasons,  she  did  not  suifer  her- 
self to  be  lulled  into  security,  nor  did  she  withdraw 
her  dependence  upon  God.  In  tiie  pleasures  of 
life,  she  maintained  a  true  indifference  as  to  their 
continuance ;  and  seemed  to  think  of  parting  with 
them,  in  so  easy  a  manner  as  plainly  showed  how 
little  possession  they  had  of  her  heart. 

At  one  period  of  her  life,  she  felt  such  indispo- 
sition of  body,  as  induced  her  to  believe  that  some 
great  sickness  was  approaching :  but,  on  this  occa- 
sion, she  possessed  great  quietude  and  resignation  ; 
and  said,  "  that  though  she  did  not  pray  for  death, 


QUEEN      MAKY.  221 

yet  she  could  neither  wish  nor  i:)ray  against  it.  She 
left  that  to  God,  and  referred  herself  to  the  disposal 
of  Providence.  If  she  did  not  wish  for  death,  yet 
she  did  not  fear  it." 

As  this  ^yas  the  state  of  her  mind  when  she 
viewed  that  event  at  some  distance,  so  she  main- 
tained the  same  composure  on  its  near  approach. 
The  end  of  this  extraordinary  queen  was,  indeed, 
such  as  might  have  been  expected  from  the  pure 
and  exemplary  life  she  had  lived.  When  she  was 
first  informed  of  the  danger  to  be  apprehended 
from  her  disorder,  (which  was  the  small-pox,)  she 
calmly  said  :  "  I  have  been  instructed  how  very 
hazardous  a  thing  it  is,  to  rely  upon  a  death-bed 
repentance :  I  am  not  now  to  begin  the  great  work 
of  preparing  for  death ;  and,  I  praise  God,  I  am  not 
afraid  of  it."  Under  the  weight  of  her  disorder, 
which  was  very  trying  to  nature,  she  appeared  to 
feel  no  inward  depression  or  discouragement  of 
mind.  A  willingness  to  die,  and  an  entire  resigna- 
tion to  the  will  of  God,  accompanied  her  to  the 
closing  scene ;  in  the  near  approach  of  which  she 
declared,  that  "she  experienced  the  joys  of  a  good 
conscience,  and  the  power  of  religion  giving  her 
supports,  which  even  the  last  agonies  could  not 
shake."  Thus  died  this  most  excellent  princess; 
and,  no  doubt,  passed  from  an  earthly  to  a  heaven- 
ly crown,  "  a  crown  of  glory  that  shall  never  fade 
away." 

The  contemplation  of  so  peaceful  and  happy  con- 


222  QUEEN      MAKY. 

elusions  of  life,  as  this,  and  others  which  are  men- 
tioned in  the  present  work,  is  sufficient,  at  times,  to 
elevate  the  soul,  and  to  make  all  the  glories  and  en- 
joyments of  this  transient  scene  sink  into  nothing. 
Ah!  these  are  favored,  precious  moments,  when 
the  Divine  Power  of  Religion  breaks  in  upon  us, 
dissolves  the  enchantment  of  the  world,  dissipates 
the  mist  of  vain  doubts  and  speculation,  and  raises 
a  fervent  aspiration,  that  whatever  may  be  our  al- 
lotment through  life,  we  may  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous,  and  the  love  of  God  be  our  portion  for 
ever! 


SECTION    II. 

BOERHAAVE. 

Herman  Boerhaaye,  one  of  the  greatest  phy- 
sicians,  and  best  of  men,  was  born  in  Holland,  in 
the  year  1668.  This  illustrious  person,  whose  name 
has  been  spread  throughout  the  world,  and  who 
left  at  his  death  above  two  hundred  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  was,  at  his  first  setting  out  in  Ufe, 
obliged  to  teach  the  mathematics  to  obtain  a  ne- 
cessary support.  His  abilities,  industry,  and  great 
merit,  soon  gained  him  friends,  placed  him  in  easy 
circumstances,  and  enabled  him  to  be  bountiful  to 
others. 

The  knowledge  and  learning  of  this  great  man, 
however  uncommon,  hold  in  his  character  but  the 
second  place;  his  virtue  was  yet  much  more  un- 
common than  his  literary  attainments.  He  was  an 
admirable  example  of  temperance,  fortitude,  humil- 
ity, and  devotion.  His  piety,  and  profound  sense 
of  his  dependence  on  God,  were  the  basis  of  all  his 
virtues,  and  the  principle  of  his  whole  conduct.  He 
was  too  sensible  of  his  weakness  to  ascribe  anything 
to  himself,  or  to  conceive  that  he  could  subdue  pas- 
sion, or  withstand  temptation  by  his  own  natural 


224  BOEKHAAVE. 

power:    he   attributed   every   good   thought   and 
every  laudable  action  to  the  Father  of  Goodness. 

Being  once  asked  by  a  friend,  who  had  often 
admired  his  patience  under  great  provocations, 
w^hether  he  had  ever  been  under  the  influence  of 
anger,  and  by  what  means  he  had  so  entirely  sup- 
pressed that  impetuous  and  ungovernable  passion ; 
he  answered,  with  the  utmost  frankness  and  sin- 
cerity, that  he  was  naturally  quick  of  resentment, 
but  that  he  had,  by  daily  prayer  and  meditation,  at 
length  attained  to  this  mastery  over  himself. 

As  soon  as  he  rose  in  the  morning,  it  was, 
through  life,  his  daily  practice,  to  retire  for  an 
hour  for  private  prayer  and  n  editation.  This,  ho 
often  told  his  friends  gave  h  \i  spirit  and  vigor 
in  the  business  of  the  day ;  a!  I  this  he  therefore 
commended  as  the  best  rule  of  ife  :  for  nothing,  he 
knew,  can  support  the  soul  It  all  distresses,  but 
confidence  in  the  Supreme  Being ;  nor  can  a  steady 
and  rational  magnanimity  flow  from  any  other 
source  than  a  consciousness  of  the  Divine  favor. 

He  asserted,  on  all  occasions,  the  Divine  author- 
ity of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  excellence  of  the 
Christian  religion  was  the  frequent  subject  of  his 
conversation.  A  strict  obedience  to  the  doctrine, 
and  a  diligent  imitation  of  the  example,  of  our 
blessed  Saviour,  he  often  declared  to  be  the  foun- 
dation of  true  tranquility.  He  was  liberal  to  the 
distressed,  but  without  ostentation.  He  often 
obliged  his  friends  in  such  a  manner,  that  they 


BOERHAAVE.  225 

knew  not,  unless  by  accident,  to  whom  they  were 
indebted.  He  was  condescending  to  all,  and  par- 
ticularly attentive  in  his  profession.  He  used  to 
say,  that  the  Hfe  of  a  patient,  if  trifled  with  or  neg- 
lected, would  one  day  be  required  at  the  hand  of 
the  physician.  He  called  the  poor  his  best  patients: 
for  God,  said  he,  is  their  paymaster.  In  conversa- 
tion, he  was  cheerful  and  instructive ;  and  desirous 
of  promoting  every  valuable  end  of  social  inter- 
course. He  never  regarded  calumny  and  detrac- 
tion, (for  Boerhaave  himself  had  enemies,)  nor  ever 
thought  it  necessary  to  confute  them.  "  They  al*e 
sparks,"  said  he,  "  which  if  you  do  not  blow  them, 
will  go  out  of  themselves.  The  surest  remedy 
against  scandal,  is,  to  live  it  down  by  perseverance 
in  well-doing ;  and  by  praying  to  God,  that  he 
would  cure  the  distempered  minds  of  those  who 
traduce  and  injure  us," 

About  the  middle  of  the  year  1*737,  he  felt  the 
first  approaches  of  that  lingering  disorder,  which 
at  length  brought  him  to  the  grave.  During  this 
afiiictive  illness,  his  constancy  and  firmness  did  not 
forsake  him.  He  neither  intermitted  the  necessary 
cares  of  life,  nor  forgot  the  proper  preparations  for 
death. 

He  related  to  a  friend,  with  great  concern,  that 
once  his  patience  so  far  gave  way  to  extremity  of 
pain,  that,  after  having  lain  fifteen  hours  in  exqui- 
site tortures,  he  prayed  to  God  that  he  might  be 
set  free  by  death.  His  friend,  by  way  of  consola- 
10* 


226  BOEKHAAVE. 

tion,  answered,  that  lie  thought  such  wishes,  when 
forced  by  contmued  and  excessive  torments,  un- 
avoidable in  the  present  state  of  human  nature ; 
Ijiat  the  best  men,  even  Job  himself,  were  not  able 
to  refrain  from  such  starts  of  impatience.  This  ho 
did  not  deny,  but  said,  "He  that  loves  God,  ought 
to  think  nothing  desirable  but  what  is  most  pleasing 
to  the  Supreme  Goodness." 

Such  were  his  sentiments,  and  such  his  conduct, 
in  this  state  of  weakness  and  pain.  As  death  ad- 
vanced nearer,  he  was  so  fxr  from  terror  or  confu- 
sion, that  he  seemed  even  less  sensible  of  pain,  and 
more  cheerful  under  his  torments.  He  died,  much 
honored  and  lamented,  in  the  70th  year  of  his  age. 

In  contemplating  the  character  of  this  excellent 
man,  what  strikes  us  most  is,  that  far  from  being 
made  impious  by  philosophy,  or  vain  by  knowledge 
or  by  virtue,  Jtie  ascribed  all  his  abilities  to  the 
bounty,  and  all  his  goodness  to  the  grace  of  God. 
"  May  his  example,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  his  biogra- 
pher, "  extend  its  influence  to  his  admirers  and 
followers !  May  those  who  study  his  writings,  im- 
itate his  life;  and  those  who  endeavor  after  his 
knowledge,  aspire  likewise  to  his  piety!" 


SECTION     III. 
JOSEPH      ADDISON. 

Joseph  Addison,  a  celebrated  English  writer, 
was  born  at  Milston,  in  Wiltshire,  in  the  year  1672. 
About  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  was  entered  at  Queen's 
college,  Oxford,  where,  by  his  fine  parts  and  great 
application,  he  made  a  surprising  piioficiency  in 
classical  learning.  Before  he  left  the  university,  he 
was  warmly  solicited  to  enter  into  orders ;  and  he 
once  resolved  to  do  so :  but  his  great  modesty,  and 
an  uncommonly  delicate  sense  of  the  importance  of 
the  sacred  function,  made  him  afterAvards  alter  his 
resolution. 

He  was  highly  respected  by  many  of  the  great- 
est, and  the  most  learned  of  his  contemporaries. 
He  travelled  into  Italy,  where  he  made  many  useful 
observations,  and  prepai'cd  materials  for  some  of 
his  literary  works.  On  his  return  to  England,  he 
was  chosen  one  of  the  lords  commissioners  for 
trade.  In  1709,  he  was  appointed  secretary  to  the 
lord  lieutenant  of  Ireland ;  and  in  1717,  was  ad- 
vanced to  the  high  office  of  secretary  of  state. 

His  writings  have  been  of  great  use  to  the 
world ;  and  his  "  Evidences  of  the  Ciiristiau  Re- 


228  JOSEPH     ADDISOJf. 

ligion,"  not  the  least  so.  Dr.  Johnson,  m  clelm- 
eating  his  character,  as  a  writer,  gives  the  following 
amiable  j^icture  of  him :  "  He  employed  wit  on  the 
side  of  virtue  and  religion.  He  not  only  made  the 
proper  use  of  wit  himself,  but  taught  it  to  others ; 
and,  from  his  time,  it  has  been  generally  subservient 
to  the  cause  of  reason  and  truth.  He  has  dissipated 
the  jDrejudice  that  had  long  connected  cheerfulness 
with  vice,  and  easiness  of  manners  with  laxity  of 
principles.  He  has  restored  virtue  to  its  dignity, 
and  taught  innocence  not  to  be  ashamed.  This  is 
an  elevation  of  literary  character  above  all  Greek, 
above  all  Roman  fame.  As  a  teacher  of  wisdom, 
he  may  be  confidently  followed.  His  religion  has 
nothing  in  it  enthusiastic  or  superstitious :  he  ap- 
pears neither  weakly  credulous,  nor  wantonly  scep- 
tical :  his  morality  is  neither  dangerously  lax,  nor 
impracticably  rigid.  All  the  enchantment  of  fancy, 
and  all  the  cogency  of  argument  are  employed  to 
recommend  to  the  reader  his  real  interest,  the  care 
of  pleasing  the  Author  of  his  being." 

Of  his  integrity  in  discharging  the  duties  of  his 
office,  there  is  a  striking  proof  recorded.  When  he 
was  secretary  in  Ireland,  he  had  materially  pro- 
moted the  interest  of  an  individual,  who  offered 
him,  in  return,  a  bank-note  of  three  hundred 
pounds,  and  a  diamond  ring  of  the  same  value. 
These  he  strenuously  refused  to  accept,  and  wrote 
to  the  person  as  follows:  "And  now,  sir,  beHeve 
me,  when  I  assure  you,  I  never  did,  nor  ever  will, 


JOSEPH     ADDISON.  229 

on  any  pretence  M-hatever,  take  more  than  the 
stated  and  customary  fees  of  my  office.  I  might 
keep  the  contrary  practice  concealed  from  tlie 
•world,  were  I  capable  of  it ;  but  I  could  not  from 
myself  J  and  I  hope  I  shall  always  fear  the  re- 
l-)roaches  of  my  own  heart  more  than  those  of  all 
mankind." 

A  mind  conscious  of  its  own  uprightness,  and 
humbly  trusting  in  the  goodness  of  God,  has  the 
best  ground  to  look  forward  with  complacency  to- 
wards another  life.  The  following  hues  of  Addison 
are  sweetly  expressive  of  the  peace  and  pleasure 
which  he  enjoyed,  in  contemplating  his  future  exist- 
ence: "The  prospect  of  a  future  state  is  the  secret 
comfort  and  refreshment  of  my  soul.  It  is  that 
which  makes  nature  look  cheerful  about  me;  it 
doubles  all  my  pleasures,  and  supports  me  under  all 
my  afflictions.  I  can  look  at  disappointments  and 
misfortunes,  pain  and  sickness,  death  itself,  with  in- 
difference, so  long  as  I  keep  in  view  the  pleasures 
of  eternity,  and  the  state  of  being  in  which  there 
will  be  no  fears  nor  apprehensions,  pains  or  sor- 
rows." 

The  virtue  of  this  excellent  man  shone  brightest 
at  the  point  of  death.  After  a  long  and  manly,  but 
vain  strugg^  j  with  his  distempers,  he  dismisser]  his 
physicians,  anrl  with  them  all  hopes  of  life ;  but  wiih 
his  hopes  of  life  he  dismissed  not  his  concern  for  the 
living.  He  sent  for  Lord  Warwick,  a  youtli.  nearly 
related  to  him,  and  finely  accomplished,  but  irregu- 


230  JOSEPH     ATHfiaOH. 

lar  in  conduct  and  principle ;  on  whom  his  pious  in- 
structions and  example  had  not  produced  the  de- 
sired effect.  Lord  Warwick  came-  but  life  now 
glimmering  in  the  socket,  the  dying  friend  was 
silent.  After  a  decent  and  proper  pause,  the  youth 
said:  "Dear  sir!  you  sent  for  me:  I  believe,  and 
hope  you  have  some  commands :  I  shall  hold  them 
most  dear."  May  the  reader  not  only  feel  the  re- 
ply, but  retain  its  impression !  Forcibly  grasping 
the  youth's  hand,  Addison  softly  said :  "  See  in 
what  peace  a  Christian  can  die !"  He  spoke  with 
diffioilty,  and  soon  expired.  Through  Divine  grace, 
how  great  is  man!  Through  Divine  mercy,  how 
stingless  death  I 


SECTION    IV. 
ANN     BAYNARD. 

Akn  Baynard  was  descended  from  an  ancient 
and  respectable  family,  and  was. born  in  the  year 
1672.  She  possessed  strong  powers  of  mind;  un- 
derstood the  learned  languages  ;  and  made  con- 
siderable acquisitions  in  the  arts  and  sciences.  She 
took  great  delight  in  study,  and  seemed  to  know 
no  bounds  in  the  pursuit  of  learning  and  knowl- 
edo-e.  But  when  she  formed  a  serious  estimate  of 
things,  and  compared  the  highest  accomplishments 
of  this  life,  with  the  possession  of  Divine  peace, 
and  the  hope  of  eternal  happiness,  her  extreme 
love  of  learning,  and  of  the  distinctions  that  accom- 
pany it,  abated.  She  then  declared,  that  "  she 
counted  all  things  but  loss,  in  comparison  of  the 
excellence  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  her 
Lord  ;  and  that  human  learning  is  worth  but  little, 
unless  it  serve  as  a  handmaid  to  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  revealed  in  the  Gospel,  as  our  only  Lord 
and  Saviour."  "  What  avails,"  said  she,  "  Solo- 
mon's skill  in  the  works  of  nature,  if  by  it  we  are 
not  brought  to  see  the  God  of  nature  ?  What 
advantage  is  it  to  be  so  learned  in  astronomy,  or 


232  ANN     EAYXARD. 

« 

the  knowledge  of  the  heavens,  that  we  can  foretell 
things  to  come,  if  we  never  study,  by  our  holy 
practice,  to  arrive  at  the  blessed  regions  ?  What 
advantage  is  it,  to  be  so  skilful  in  arithmetic,  thnt 
we  can  divide  and  subdivide  to  the  smallest  frac- 
tion, if,  as  God  has  revealed  unto  us  in  his  holy 
word,  w^e  do  not  learn  to  number  our  days,  and 
apply  our  hearts  to  wisdom  ?  What  advantage  is 
it,  for  a  physician  to  know  how  to  prevent  or  cure 
the  disease  of  the  body,  if  he  knows  not  where  to 
find  the  balm  of  Gilead,  the  wine  and  oil  of  the 
Good  Samaritan,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  pour 
into  the  w^ounds  of  his  own  soul  ?" 

The  mind  of  this  excellent  Avoman  was  much 
raised  above  the  vanities  of  this  world,  its  gayeties 
and  splendor.  Having  experienced  the  happiness 
of  a  devout  and  pious  life,  slie  had  no  relish  for 
pleasures  of  a  difterent  nature.  She  had  a  high  ven- 
eration for  the  Author  of  her  being,  and  made  it 
her  great  business  to  promote  his  honor  and  glory. 
She  observed,  with  deep  concern,  the  errors,  fol- 
lies, and  vices  of  the  age  ;  and  w^as  not  only  im- 
portunate in  her  intercessions  for  the  good  of  the 
world,  but  solicitous  to  benefit  the  souls  of  those 
with  whom  she  conversed,  by  friendly  rej^roo^ 
good  counsel,  or  pious  discourse.  But  the  period 
of  her  life  and  labors  was  of  short  duration  ;  for  she 
was  only  twenty-five  years  of  age  when  she  died. 


SECTION    V. 
ELIZABETH     ROWE. 

Elizabeth  Rowe,  the  daughter  of  a  very  re- 
spectable dissenting  minister,  was  born  at  Ilchester, 
in  Somersetshire,  in  the  year  1674.  She  discovered 
early  symptoms  of  fine  parts ;  and  as  her  strongest 
bent  was  to  poetry,  she  began  to  write  verses  at 
twelve  years  of  age.  She  possessed  uncommon 
elegance  of  mind,  and  exquisite  sensibility.  She 
also  manifested  a  pious  and  devout  disposition, 
even  when  she  w^as  very  young.  It  was  a  peculiar 
happiness  to  her,  that,  early  in  life,  she  enjoyed  the 
friendship  of  the  pious  Bishop  Ken  ;  at  whose  re- 
quest she  wrote  a  paraphrase  on  the  thirty-eighth 
chapter  of  Job. 

Her  shining  merit,  and  various  accomplishments, 
procured  her  many  admirers :  but  the  person 
who  obtained  her  in  marriage,  w^as  Thomas  Rowe, 
a  gentleman  of  uncommon  parts  and  learning, 
and  of  great  worth.  The  connection  proved 
happy,  but  was  of  short  duration.  The  husband 
of  this  excellent  woman  died  of  a  consumption  at 
twenty-eight  years  of  age,  having  lived  with  his 
amiable   consort   scarcely  five  years.      The   elegy 


234  ELIZABETH     KOWE. 

which  she  composed  upon  his  death,  is  one  of  her 
best  poems. 

After  the  decease  of  her  husband,  the  world 
appeared  in  her  \iew  with  less  attraction  than 
ever.  She  retired  to  her  estate  at  Frome,  where 
she  spent  the  remainder  of  her  days.  In  this  re- 
treat, the  religious  temper  of  her  mind  increased  ; 
and  here  she  wrote  the  greater  part  of  her  works. 
Her  book,  entitled  "  Devout  Exercises  of  the 
Heart,  in  Meditation  and  Soliloquy,  Praise  and 
Prayer,"  has  been  much  read  and  commended. 
This  work  she  sealed  up,  and  directed  it  to  be  de- 
livered to  Dr.  Watts,  after  her  decease ;  with  a 
letter  to  him,  in  which  she  gives  some  account 
both  of  the  work  and  of  herself.  The  letter  con- 
tains so  much  of  a  devout  and  Christian  sj^irit,  that 
we  shall  insert  a  part  of  it  in  this  collection. 

"  The  *  Reflections '  were  occasionally  written, 
and  only  for  my  own  improvement ;  but  I  am  not 
without  hope  that  they  may  have  the  same  salu- 
tary effect  on  some  pious  minds,  as  reading  the 
experience  of  others  has  had  on  my  own  soul. 
The  experimental  part  of  religion  has  generally  a 
greater  influence  than  the  theory  of  it ;  and  if, 
when  I  am  sleeping  in  the  dust,  these  soliloquies 
should  kindle  a  flame  of  Divine  love,  even  in  the 
heart  of  the  lowest  and  most  despised  Christian, 
be  the  glory  given  to  the  great  Spring  of  all  grace 
and  benignity ! 


ELIZABETH     RO"\VE.  235 

"  I  have  now  done  with  mortal  things,  and  all  to 
come  is  vast  eternity  !  Eternity  !  how  transport- 
ing is  the  sound  !  As  long  as  God  exists,  my 
being  and  happiness  are,  I  doubt  not,  secure. 
These  unbounded  desires,  which  tlie  Avide  creation 
cannot  limit,  shall  be  satisfied  for  ever.  I  shall 
drink  at  the  fountain-head  of  pleasure,  and  be  re- 
freshed with  the  emanations  of  original  life  and 
joy.  I  shall  hear  the  voice  of  uncreated  harmony, 
speaking  peace  and  ineffable  consolation  to  my 
soul. 

"  I  expect  eternal  life,  not  as  a  reward  of  merit, 
but  as  a  pure  act  of  bounty.  Detesting  myself  in 
every  view  I  can  take,  I  fly  to  the  righteousness 
and  atonement  of  my  great  Redeemer,  for  pardon 
and  salvation :  this  is  my  only  consolation  and 
hope.  Enter  not  into  judgment,  O  Lord,  with  thy 
servant ;  for  in  thy  sight  shall  no  flesh  be  justified. 
Through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  I  hope  for  an 
entire  victory  over  the  last  enemy ;  and  that,  be- 
fore this  comes  to  you,  I  shall  have  reached  the 
celestial  heights ;  and,  while  you  are  reading  these 
hues,  I  shall  be  adoring  before  the  throne  of  God  ; 
where  faith  shall  be  turned  into  vision,  and  these 
languishing  desires  satisfied  with  the  full  fruition  of 
immortal  love.     Amen." 


SECTION    VI. 
DOCTOR      WATTS. 

Isaac  Watts,  a  learned  and  eminent  dissenting 
minister,  was  born  at  Southampton,  in  the  year 
1674,  of  parents  who  were  distinguished  by  their 
piety  and  virtue.  He  possessed  uncommon  genius, 
and  gave  early  proofs  of  it.  He  received  a  very 
liberal  education,  which  was  rendered  highly  bene- 
ficial to  him,  by  his  own  unwearied  efibrts  to  im- 
prove himself.  After  the  most  serious  deliberation, 
he  determined  to  devote  his  life  to  the  ministry; 
of  the  importance  of  which  office  he  had  a  deep 
and  awful  sense.  He  labored  very  diligently  to 
promote  the  instruction  and  happiness  of  the  people 
under  his  care :  and,  by  his  Christian  conduct  and 
amiable  disposition,  greatly  endeared  himself  to 
them. 

Soon  after  he  had  undertaken  the  pastoral  office, 
his  health  sustained  a  severe  shock,  by  a  painful  and 
dangerous  illness;  from  which  he  recovered  very 
slowly.  But  in  the  year  1712,  he  was  afflicted  with 
a  violent  fever,  that  entirely  broke  his  constitution, 
and  left  such  weakness  upon  his  nerves  as  continued 
with  him,  in  some  measure,  to  the  day  of  his  death. 


DOCTOR      WATTS.  237 

For  four  years,  he  was  wholly  prevented  from  dis- 
charging the  public  offices  of  his  station.  Though 
this  long  interval  of  sickness  was,  no  doubt,  very 
trying  to  his  active  mind,  yet  it  j^roved  ultimately 
a  blessing;  for  it  drew  upon  him  the  particular 
notice  of  Sir  Thomas  Abuey,  a  very  jjious  and  wor- 
thy man,  who,  from  motives  of  friendship,  invited 
him  into  his  family ;  in  which  he  continued  to  the 
end  of  his  life ;  and,  for  the  long  space  of  thirty-six 
years,  -was  treated  with  uniform  kindness,  attention, 
and  respect. 

Dr.  Johnson's  judicious  account  of  Watts,  ex- 
hibits him,  both  as  a  man  and  a  writer,  in  a  very 
pleasing  light.  We  shall  select  from  it  a  i^ew  strik- 
ing passages : 

"  This  excellent  man  was,  by  his  natural  temper, 
quick  of  resentment ;  but,  by  his  established  and 
habitual  practice,  he  was  gentle,  modest,  and  in- 
offensive. His  tenderness  appeared  in  his  attention 
to  children,  and  to  the  poor.  To  the  poor,  while 
he  lived  in  the  family  of  his  friend,  he  allowed  the 
third  part  of  his  annual  revenue ;  and  for  children, 
he  condescended  to  lay  aside  the  scholar,  the  phi. 
losopher,  and  the  wit,  to  write  little  poems-of  devo- 
tion, and  systems  of  instruction  adapted  to  their 
wants  and  capacities,  from  the  dawn  of  reason 
througli  its  gradations  of  advance  in  the  morning 
of  life. 

*'  Few  men  have  left  behind  them  such  purity  of 
character,  or  such  monuments  of  laborious  piety, 


238  DOCTOR     WATTS. 

He  has  provided  instruction  for  all  ages,  from  those 
who  are  lisping  their  first  lessons,  to  the  enlight- 
ened readers  of  Malbranche  and  Locke.  His  '  Im- 
provement of  the  Mind,'  is  a  work  in  the  highest 
degree  useful  and  pleasing.  Whatever  he  took  in 
hand  was,  by  his  incessant  solicitude  for  souls,  con- 
verted 'to  theology.  As  piety  predominated  in  his 
mind,  it  is  diffused  over  his  works.  Under  his  di- 
rection it  may  be  truly  said,  that  philosophy  is  sub- 
servient to  evangelical  instruction :  it  is  difficult  to 
read  a  page  without  learning,  or  at  least,  wishing 
to  be  better." 

The  virtue  of  this  good  man  eminently  appeared, 
in  the  happy  state  of  his  mind,  under  great  pains 
and  weakness  of  body,  and  in  the  improvement 
which  he  derived  from  them.  Of  those  seasons  of 
affliction,  he  says,  with  a  truly  elevated  mind  and 
thankful  heart :  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  let  the  world 
know,  that  amidst  the  sinkings  of  life  and  nature, 
Christianity  and  the  Gospel  were  my  support. 
Amidst  all  the  violence  of  my  distemper,  and  the 
tiresome  months  of  it,  I  thank  God,  I  never  lost 
sight  of  reason  or  religion,  though  sometimes  I  had 
much  difficulty  to  preserve  the  machine  of  animal 
nature  in  such  order,  as  regularly  to  exercise  either 
the  man  or  the  Christian." 

The  sweet  peace  of  conscience  he  enjoyed, 
under  these  trying  circumstances,  and  the  ra- 
tional and  Christian  foundation  of  his  hope  and 
trust    in    the    Divine    Goodness,    are    beautifully 


DOCTOR      WATTS.  239 

and    justly    expressed    by   him   in    the    following 
lines: 

"  Yet,  gracious  God  !  amid  these  storms  of  nature, 
Thine  eyes  behold  a  sweet  and  sacred  calm 
Reign  through  the  realms  of  conscience :  all  -within 
Lies  peaceful,  all  composed.     'Tis  wondrous  Grace 
Keeps  off  thy  terrors  from  this  humble  bosom ; 
Though  stain  d  with  sins  and  follies,  yet  serene 
In  penitential  peace  and  cheerful  hope. 
Sprinkled  and  guarded  with  atoning  blood. 
Tliy  vital  smiles,  amidst  this  desolation, 
Like  heav'nly  sunbeams,  hid  behind  the  clouds. 
Break  out  in  happy  moments,  with  bright  radiance 
Cleaving  the  gloom  ;  the  fair  celestial  hght 
Softens  and  gilds  the  horrors  of  the  storm, 
And  richest  cordials  to  the  heart  conveys. 


"  0  glorious  solace  of  immense  distress, 
A  conscience  and  a  God  !     This  is  my  rock 
Of  firm  support,  my  shield  of  sure  defence 
Against  infernal  arrows.     Rise,  my  soul ! 
Put  on  thy  courage  :  here's  the  living  spring 
Of  joys  divinely  sweet  and  ever  new, 
A  peaceful  conscience,  and  a  smiling  Heav'n. 


"  My  God,  permit  a  creeping  worm  to  say, 
Thy  Spirit  knows  I  love  thee ! — "Worthless  wretch. 
To  dare  to  love  a  God  ! — But  grace  requires, 
And  grace  accepts.     Thou  seest  my  lab'rmg  souL 
Weak  as  my  zeal  is,  yet  my  zeal  is  true ; 
It  bears  the  trying  furnace.     Love  divine 
Constrains  me :  I  am  thine.     Incarnate  Love 
Has  seized,  and  holds  me  in  almighty  arms  I 
Here's  my  salvation,  my  eternal  hope — 
Amidst  the  wreck  of  worlds  and  dyin?  nature, 
I  am  the  Lord's,  and  he's  for  ever  mine  1" 


240  DOCTOR     WATTS. 

When  his  sufferings  were,  in  some  degree,  alle- 
viated, what  excellent  effects  were  produced  in  his 
mind !  How  was  his  heart  enlarged  with  love  and 
gratitude  to  God !  and  in  what  pathetic  language 
did  he  pour  out  his  spirit ! 

"  Almighty  Power,  I  love  thee !  blissful  name, 
My  healer  God !  and  may  my  inmost  heart 
Love  and  adore  for  ever !     O  'tis  good 
To  wait  submissive  at  thy  holy  throne, 
To  leave  petitions  at  thy  feet,  and  bear 
Thy  frowns  and  silence  with  a  patient  soul! 
The  hand  of  mercy  is  not  short  to  save, 
Nov  is  the  ear  of  heavenly  pity  deaf 
To  mortal  cries.     It  noticed  all  my  groans. 
And  sighs,  and  long  complaints,  with  wise  delay, 
Though  painful  to  the  suff'rer ;  and  thy  hand 
In  proper  moment  brought  desired  relief." 

And  now,  how  amiable  does  he  appear,  when  the 
shadows  of  the  evening  were  stretching  over  him ! 
Two  or  three  years  before  his  decease,  the  active 
and  sprightly  powers  of  his  nature  gradually  failed; 
yet  his  trust  in  God,  through  Jesus  the  Mediator, 
remained  unshaken  to  the  last.  lie  was  heard  to 
say :  "  I  bless  God  I  can  lie  down  with  comfort  at 
night,  not  being  solicitous  whether  I  awake  in  this 
world  or  another."  And  again :  "  I  should  be  glad 
to  read  more ;  yet  not  in  order  to  be  further  con- 
firmed in  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  or  in 
the  truth  of  its  pron\ises;  for  T  believe  them  enough 
to  venture  an  eternity  upon  them." 

When  he  was  almost  worn  out,  and  broken  down 


DOCTOR      "WATTS.  241 

by  liis  infirmities,  he  said,  in  conversation  with  a 
friend ;  "  I  remember  an  aged  minister  used  to  ob- 
serve, that  *the  most  learned  and  knowing  Chris- 
tians, when  they  come  to  die,  have  only  tlic  same 
plain  promises  of  the  gospel  for  their  support,  as 
the  common  and  unlearned :'  and  so,  I  find  it.  It 
is  the  plain  promises  of  the  gospel  that  are  my  suj)- 
port;  and,  I  bless  God,  they  are  plain  promises, 
that  do  not  require  much  labor  and  pains  to  under- 
stand them." 

At  times,  when  he  found  his  spirit  tending  to  im- 
patience, and  ready  to  complain  that  he  could  only 
lead  a  mere  animal  life,  he  would  check  himself 
thus:  *'The  business  of  a  Christian  is,  to  bear  the 
will  of  God,  as  well  as  to  do  it.  If  I  wei-e  in  health, 
I  ought  to  bo  doing  it,  and  now  it  is  my  duty  to 
bear  it.  The  best  thing  in  obedience,  is  a  regard  to 
the  will  of  God ;  and  the  way  to  that  is,  to  have 
our  inclinations  and  aversions  as  much  mortified  as 
we  can." 

With  so  calm  and  peaceful  a  mind,  so  blessed  and 
lively  a  hope,  did   the  resigned  servant  of  Christ 
wait  for  his  Master's  summons.    He  quietly  expired 
in  the  seventy-fifth  year  of  his  age. 
11 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings — H.  Housman — Doctoe 
Doddridge, 


SECTION    I. 
LADY    ELIZABETH    HASTINQS. 

In  the  life,  sufferings,  and  death,  of  Lady  Eliza- 
beth Hastings,  we  have  a  lively  instance  of  the 
power  and  support  of  religion. 

An  ingenuous  temper,  a  quickness  of  understand- 
ing, a  benevolent  spirit,  a  flexibility  of  nature,  and 
a  solemn  sense  of  Divine  things,  were  observable 
in  her  tender  age  ;  and,  in  the  dangerous  ascent  of 
life,  her  feet  were  guided  and  preserved  in  the 
paths  of  rectitude  and  goodness ;  so  that  she  was 
not  only  free  from  the  stain  of  vice  in  her  rising 
years,  but  superior  to  the  world,  and  its  vain  and 
trifling  amusements.  Through  the  whole  course 
of  her  time,  her  lamp  shone  brightly ;  and  in  ma- 
ture age,  diffused  its  light  and  influence  in  a  wide 
extent  around  her. 


LADY     ELIZABETH     HASTINGS.  243 

It  iippears  that  the  great  aim  of  her  life  was,  to 
promote  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  M'elfare  of  men, 
keeping  lier  talents,  extensive  fortune,  and  other 
means  of  doing  good,  continually  employed  for  the 
benefit  of  her  fellow-creatures.  Of  all  her  cares,  a 
most  especial  one  was  that  of  the  stranger,  the 
fatherless,  and  the  widow^;  the  needy,  and  him 
that  had  no  helper;  the  lame,  the  halt,  and  the 
hlind.  These  objects  excited  her  most  tender  com- 
passion. She  participated  in  their  sufferings ;  she 
often  conversed  with  them ;  and  inquired  into  their 
history,  with  great  condescension.  She  studied 
their  particular  cases,  and  put  them  in  the  way  of 
improving  their  condition.  She  often  visited  them 
in  sickness,  bore  the  expenses  of  it ;  and,  no  doubt, 
endeavored  to  cheer  and  encourage  them  under  all 
the  apparent  hardships  of  their  allotment. 

The  following  character  of  this  noble-minded 
woman,  was  drawn  by  the  hand  of  an  eminent 
writer :  "  Her  countenance  was  the  lively  picture 
of  her  mind,  which  was  the  seat  of  honor,  truth, 
compassion,  knowledge,  and  innocence.  In  the 
midst  of  the  most  ample  fortune,  and  the  venera- 
tion of  all  that  beheld  and  knew  her,  without  the 
least  affectation  she  devoted  herself  to  retirement, 
to  the  contemplation  of  h*^-  own  being,  and  of  that 
Supreme  Power  which  bestowed  it.  Without  the 
learning  of  schools,  or  knowledge  of  a  long  course 
of  arguments,  she  went  on  in  an  uninterrupted 
course  of  piety  and  virtue ;  and  added  to  the  se- 


244  LADY     ELIZABETH     HASTINGS. 

verity  and  privacy  of  the  last  age,  all  the  freedom 
and  ease  of  this.  The  language  and  mien  of  a 
court  she  was  possessed  of  in  a  high  degree  ;  but 
the  simplicity  and  humble  thoughts  of  a  cottage, 
were  her  more  welcome  entertainments.  She  was 
a  female  philosopher,  who  did  not  only  live  up  to 
the  resignation  of  the  most  retired  lives  of  the 
ancient  sages,  but  also  to  the  schemes  and  plans 
M'hich  they  thought  beautiful,  though  inimitable. 
This  lady  was  the  most  exact  economist,  without 
appearing  busy ;  the  most  strictly  virtuous,  with- 
out tasting  the  praise  of  it ;  and  shunned  applause 
with  as  much  industry  as  others  do  reproach." 

Towards  the  close  of  life,  she  experienced  great 
bodily  affliction,  having  a  cancer  in  the  breast,  for 
which  she  underwent  an  amputation.  But  in  all 
her  sufferings  from  this  cause,  and  even  under  the 
trying  operation,  her  religious  fortitude  and  seren- 
ity of  mind  did  not  forsake  her.  The  resignation 
of  her  spirit  to  the  dispensations  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, is  strongly  marked  by  the  following  expres- 
sions, which  dropped  from  her  during  the  course 
of  this  painful  distemper  :  "  I  would  not  wish  to  be 
out  of  my  present  situation,  for  all  the  world  ;  nor 
exchange  it  for  any  other,  at  any  price." 

The  night  subseque:  "^  to  the  operation  did  not 
afford  her  much  sleep,  but  it  was  a  night  of  celes- 
tial peace  ;  a  time  of  thanksgiving  to  her  God,  for 
the  visible  demonstration  of  his  power  in  and 
about  her ;  for  his  stretched-out  arm  in  her  great 


LADY     ELIZABETH     HASTINGS.  245 

deliverance ;  for  the  bountiful  provisions  he  had 
made  for  all  the  wants  of  her  soul  and  body ; 
and,  in  a  word,  for  all  his  blessings  conferred 
uj^on  her. 

She  was,  sooner  than  expected,  restored  to  a 
comfortable  state  of  health,  and  to  that  Hfe  of 
charity  and  beneficence,  which  was  the  joy  of  her 
heart :  but  the  disorder,  repressed  only  for  a  time, 
appeared  again  with  new  malignity,  and,  at  length, 
put  a  period  to  all  her  sorrows.  Her  lamp  and  her 
life  were,  however,  to  be  extinguished  together : 
she  was  pious  and  beneficent  to  the  last. 

A  short  time  before  her  departure,  impressed 
with  a  strong  sense  of  Divine  Goodness,  she  broke 
out,  with  a  raised  accent,  in  the  following  manner : 
"  Lord  !  what  is  it  that  I  see  ?  O,  the  greatness  of 
the  glory  that  is  revealed  in  me !  that  is  before 
me  !"  So  joyful  appears  to  have  been  her  entrance 
into  the  kingdom  of  her  Lord  and  Saviour.  She 
died  in  the  year  1740. 

The  truly  religious,  whose  evidences  of  a  blessed 
futurity  are  clear,  rational,  and  well-founded,  have, 
at  times,  in  their  journey  through  life,  a  tide  of 
hope  and  joy  springing  up  in  their  minds,  beyond 
expression  ;  a  felicity  more  moving  and  satisfactory 
than  any  can  imagine,  but  they  who  have,  in  some 
degree,  experienced  it.  And  when  they  are  just 
entering  upon  the  promised  land,  they  are  some- 
times favored  to  have  the  splendor  of  the  eternal 
day  dawn  upon  them,  and  to  shine  as  through  the 


246  LADY     ELIZABETH     HASTINGS. 

breaches  of  their  shattered  bodies ;  raising  in  their 
spirits  such  an  earnest  of  happiness,  such  foretastes 
of  joy,  as  enable  them  to  pass  through  the  valley 
of  death  in  peace  and  triumph.  What  a  rich  re- 
ward for  all  the  crosses  and  conflicts  of  this  pro- 
bationary scene  !  and  how  animating  a  source  of 
encouragement,  during  our  pilgrimage,  to  rise 
above,  and  look  beyond,  all  the  troubles  of  time ! 


SECTION     II. 
H.      HOUSMAN. 

Theee  are  few  greater  instances  of  the  happy- 
power  of  religion  on  the  mind,  than  that  which  was 
exhibited  by  an  excellent  and  pious  woman  of  the 
name  of  Housman,  when  she  drew  near  the  close 
of  life. 

She  was  born  at  Kidderminster,  of  religious 
parents,  who  early  instructed  her  in  the  duties  of 
religion.  By  her  diary,  it  appears  she  was  brought 
under  lively  impressions  of  Divine  things,  at  thir- 
teen years  of  age.  From  1711,  when  her  diary- 
begins,  to  1735,  the  time  of  her  death,  her  life 
seems  to  have  been  a  circumspect  walking  in  the 
fear  of  God.  The  following  account  of  her  last 
illness  and  death  was  drawn  up  by  a  person  who 
attended  her  throughout. 

From  the  time  of  her  first  seizure,  she  was  exer- 
cised with  very  violent  pains,  without  any  intermis- 
sion, till  her  death  ;  such  as,  she  would  often  say, 
she  thought  she  could  not  have  borne  :  "  but,"  said 
she,  "  God  is  good  ;  verily  he  is  good  to  me  !  I 
have  found  him  a  good  and  gracious  God  to  me  all 
my  days." 


248  H.     IIOUSMAN. 

When  recovering  from  extreme  pain,  she  said : 
"  God  is  good  ;  I  have  found  him  so  ;  and  though 
he  slay  me,  yet  I  will  trust  in  him.  These  pains 
make  me  love  my  Lord  Jesus  the  better.  O  they 
put  me  in  mind  of  what  he  suffered,  to  purchase 
salvation  for  my  poor. soul!  "Why  for  me,  Lord! 
why  for  me,  the  greatest  of  sinners  ?  Why  for  me, 
who  so  long  refused  the  rich  offers  of  thy  grace, 
and  the  kind  invitations  of  the  gospel  ?  How 
many  helps  and  means  have  I  enjoyed  more  than 
many  others  ;  yea,  above  most !  I  had  a  religious 
father  and  mother ;  and  I  had  access  to  a  valuable 
minister,  to  whom  I  could  often  and  freely  open 
my  mind.  I  have  lived  in  a  golden  age.  I  have 
lived  in  peaceable  times,  and  have  enjoyed  great 
advantages  and  helps  for  communion  with  God, 
and  the  peace  of  my  own  mind  :  for  which  I  owe 
my  gracious  God  and  Father  more  praises  than 
words  can  express.  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul, 
and  all  that  is  within  me  bless  his  holy  name ! 
Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all,  or 
any,  of  his  benefits  !" 

When  any  were  weeping  and  mourning  over 
her,  she  would  say :  *'  Weep  not  for  me ;  it  is  the 
will  of  God  ;  therefore  be  content.  If  it  may  be 
for  his  honor  and  glory,  he  will  spare  me  a  little 
longer ;  if  not,  I  am  wholly  resigned  to  the  will  of 
God.  I  am  content  to  stay  here,  as  long  as  he  has 
any  thing  for  me  to  do,  or  to  suffer ;  and  I  am  will- 
ing to    go,  if  it  be  my  Father's  good   pleasure. 


H.     HOUSMAN. 


249 


Therefore  be  content,  and  say,  '  It  is  the  Lord  ;  let 
him  do  what  seemeth  to  him  good.'  " 

To  a  person  who    came  to    see  lier,   she  said  : 
"Cousin,  I  think  I   shall  die:    and  now,  what  a 
comfort  it  is,  that  I  am  not  afraid  of  death  !     The 
blood  of  Christ  cleanses  me  from  all  sin.     Bat  mis- 
take me  not ;  there  must  be  a  life  and  conversation 
agreeable  to  the  gospel,  or  else  our  faith  in  Christ 
is  a  dead  faith.     Secure  Christ  for  your  friend  ;  set 
not  your  heart  on  things  below :  riches  and  honors, 
and  what  the  world  calls  pleasures,  are  all  fading, 
perishing  things."     She  then  threw  out  her  hand, 
and  said :  "  O,  if  I  had  thousands  and  ten  thou- 
sands of  gold  and  silver  lying  by  me,  what  could 
they  do  for  me  now  I  am  dying  ?     Take  the  advice 
of  a  departing  friend  who  wishes  you  well.     Do 
not  set  your  affections  on  riches,  or  on  any  thing 
here  below.    Remember,  death  will  come  in  a  little 
while,  whether  you  are  ready  or  unready,  willing 
or  unwilling.     I  commend  you  to  God.     I  hope,  in 
a  short  time,  we  shall  meet  again  in  heaven,  that 
place  of  perfect  rest,  peace,  and  happiness." 

The  whole  time  of  her  sickness,  she  was  in  a 
cheerful,  thankful  frame  of  mind.  When  she  was 
cold,  and  had  something  warm  given  to  her,  she 
often  said :  "  Blessed  be  God  for  all  his  mercies ; 
and  for  this  comfort  in  my  affliction."  On  her  at- 
tendant's warming  a  piece  of  tlannel,  and  putting 
it  round  her  cold  hands,  she  thanked  her  for  it, 
and  said :  "  O,  how  many  mercies  I  have  !  I  want 
11* 


250  H.     HOUSMAN. 

for  nothing.  Here  is  every  thing  I  can  wish  for. 
I  can  say,  I  never  wanted  any  good  thing.  I  wish 
only  for  a  tranquil  passage  to  glory.  It  was  free 
Grace  that  plucked  me  from  the  very  brink  of  hell ; 
and  it  is  the  power  of  Divine  Grace,  that  has  sup- 
ported me  through  the  whole  of  my  life.  Hitherto 
I  can  say,  the  Lord  is  gracious.  He  has  been  very 
merciful  to  me,  in  sustaining  me  under  all  my  trials. 
The  Lord  brings  affliction,  but  it  is  not  because  he 
deUghts  to  afflict  his  children  :  it  is  at  all  times  for 
our  profit.  I  can  say,  it  has  been  good  for  me  to 
be  afflicted  ;  it  has  enabled  me  to  discern  things, 
which,  when  I  was  in  health,  I  could  not  perceive. 
It  has  made  me  see  more  of  the  vanity  and  empti- 
ness of  this  world,  and  all  its  transient  comforts ; 
for,  at  best,  they  are  but  vanity.  I  can  say  from 
my  own  experience,  I  have  found  them  to  be  so 
many  a  time." 

To  her  husband,  the  day  before  she  died,  she 
said  :  "  My  dear,  I  think  I  am  going  apace  ;  and  I 
hope  you  will  be  satisfied,  because  it  is  the  w^ill  of 
God.  You  have  at  all  times  been  very  loving  and 
good  to  me  ;  and  I  thank  you  for  it  kindly :  and 
now  I  desire  you  freely  to  resign  me  to  God.  If 
God  sees  it  best  to  prolong  my  stay  here  upon 
earth,  I  am  willing  to  stay ;  or,  if  he  sees  it  best  to 
take  me  to  himself,  I  am  willing  to  go.  I  am  will- 
ing to  be,  and  to  bear,  what  may  be  most  for  his 
glory." 

The  evening  before  she  died,  she  found  death 


H.     IIOUSMAN 


251 


stealing    upon   her;    and,  feeling   her   own   pulse, 
said  :  "  Well,  it  will  be  but  a  little  while  before  my 
>vork  in  this  world  will  be  finished.     Then  I  shall 
have  done  with  prayer.     My  whole  employment  in 
heaven  will  be  praise  and  love.     Here,  I  love  God 
but  faintly,  yet,  I  hope,  sincerely  ;  but  there  it  will 
be  perfectly.     I  shall  behold  his  face  in  righteous- 
ness ;   for  I  am  thy  servant.  Lord !   bought  with 
blood,  with  precious  blood.     Christ  died  to  pur- 
chase the  life  of  my  soul.     A  little  while,  and  then 
I  shall  be  singing  that  sweet  song,  '  Blessing,  and 
honor,  and  glory,  and  power,  he  unto  him  that  sit- 
teth  upon  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb  for  ever 

and  ever.'  " 

With  smiles  on  her  face,  and  transports  of  joy 
she  often  said  :  "  Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly  ! 
Why  tarry  the  wheels  of  thy  chariot  ?  O,  blessed 
convoy !  come  and  fetch  my  soul,  to  dwell  with 
God,  and  Christ,  and  perfect  spirits  for  ever  and 
ever.  When  I  join  that  blessed  society  above,  my 
pleasures  will  never  end.  O,  the  glory  that  shall 
be  set  on  the  head  of  faith  and  love  !" 

A  few  mmutes  before  her  departure,  finding  her- 
self going,  she  desired  to  be  lifted  up.  When  this 
was  done,  she  cheerfully  said  :  "  Farewell  sin  !  fare- 
weU  pains  !»  and  so  finished  her  course  with  joy. 


SECTION    III. 
DOCTOR    DODDRIDOE. 

Philip  Doddridge  was  born  in  London,  in  the 
year  1702.  His  parents,  who  were  persons  of 
great  worth,  brought  him  up  in  an  early  knowl- 
edsre  of  religion  :  but  he  had  the  misfortune  to  lose 
them  before  he  was  fourteen  years  old.  This  cir- 
cumstance excited  in  his  mind  very  serious  reflec- 
tions, Avhich,  however,  were  not  wholly  of  a 
gloomy  nature  ;  for  he  expressed  a  devout,  and 
even  a  cheerful  trust  in  the  protection  of  the  God 
of  Mercies,  the  universal  Parent  of  mankind. 

He  diligently  improved  his  time,  and  was  anx- 
ious to  be  daily  advancing  in  knowledge,  piety,  vir- 
tue, and  usefulness.  He  possessed  strong  powers 
of  mind,  and,  by  unwearied  application,  acquired  a 
large  fund  of  sound  and  elegant  learning.  His 
publications,  which  are  chiefly  on  religious  sub- 
jects, have  been  eminently  useful  to  the  world. 
By  his  literary  acquisitions,  his  amiable  disposition, 
and  his  desire  to  imbue  the  young  mind  with 
knowledge  and  virtue,  he  was  qualified,  in  a  pecu- 
liar manner,  to  become  the  instructor  of  youth ; 
and   for  many  years  he  superintended  .a  very  re- 


DOCTOR    DODDRIDGE.  253 

Bpectable  academy.  As  the  pastor  of  a  congrega- 
tion, he  manifested  a  sincere  and  zealous  regard  lor 
the  happiness  of  the  people  under  his  care,  by 
-whom  he  was  greatly  honored  and  beloved. 

He  possessed  many  virtues ;  but  the  prime  and 
leading  feature  of  his  soul,  was  devotion.  He  was 
Very  solicitous  to  preserve  and  cultivate  an  habitual 
sense  of  the  Supreme  Being ;  to  maintain  and  in- 
crease the  ardor  of  religion  in  his  heart;  and  to 
prepare  himself,  by  devout  exercises,  for  the  im- 
portant labors  of  his  station.  Xor  was  it  to  his 
secret  retirements  that  his  piety  was  limited :  it 
was  manifested  in  every  part  of  the  day,  and  ap- 
peared in  his  usual  intercourse  with  men.  In  the 
little  vacancies  of  time  which  occur  to  the  busiest 
of  mankind,  he  was  frequently  lifting  up  his  soul  to 
God.  When  he  lectured  on  philosophy,  history, 
anatomy,  or  other  subjects  not  immediately  theo- 
logical, he  would  endeavor  to  graft  some  religious 
instructions  upon  them,  that  he  might  raise  the 
minds  of  his  pupils  to  devotion,  as  well  as  to  knowl- 
edge; and  in  his  visits  to  his  people,  the  Christian 
friend  and  minister  were  united. 

The  piety  of  Dr.  Doddridge  was  accompanied 
with  the  warmest  benevolence  to  his  fellow-crea- 
tures. No  one  could  more  strongly  feel  that  the 
love  of  God  must  be  united  with  love  to  man. 
Xor  was  this  a  principle  that  rested  in  kind  wishes, 
and  pathetic  feelings  for  the  happiness  of  others, 
but  it  was  manifested  in  the  most  active  exertions 


254  DOC  TO  11     DODDEIDGE. 

for  their  welfare.  No  scheme  of  doing  good  was 
ever  suggested  to  him,  into  which  he  did  not  enter 
with  ardon  But  the  generosity  of  his  mind  wos 
the  most  displayed,  when  any  plans  of  propagating 
religion,  and  of  spreading  the  gospel  among  those 
who  were  strangers  to  it,  were  proposed.  In  every- 
thing of  this  kind,  he  was  always  ready  to  take  the 
lead,  and  was  ardent  in  endeavoring  to  inspire  his 
friends  with  the  same  sj^irit. 

He  was  of  a  weak  and  delicate  bodily  constitu- 
tion; and  a  severe  cold  which  he  caught  about  the 
forty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  brought  on  a  consump- 
tion of  the  lungs.  The  nearer  he  approached  to  his 
dissolution,  the  more  plainly  was  observed  his  con- 
tinual  improvement  in  a  spiritual  and  heavenly  tem- 
per. Indeed,  he  seemed  to  have  risen  above  the 
world,  and  to  be  daily  breathing  after  immortality. 
This  dis])osition  of  his  mind  was  ardently  expressed 
in  several  of  his  letters ;  and  it  is  manifest  from  his 
will,  which  was  made  at  this  time,  and.  is  prefaced 
in  the  following  language :  "  Whereas  it  is  custom- 
ary on  these  occasions,  to  begin  with  commending 
the  soul  into  the  hands  of  God,  through  Christ ;  I 
do  it,  not  in  mere  form,  but  with  sincerity  and  joy; 
esteeming  it  my  greatest  happiness,  that  I  am 
taught  and  encouraged  to  do  it,  by  that  glorious 
gospel,  which,  having  most  assuredly  believed  it,  I 
have  spent  my  life  in  preaching  to  others;  and 
which  I  esteem  an  infinitely  greater  treasure  than 
all  my  little  worldly  store,  or  possessions  ten  thou- 
sand times  greater  than  mine.'^ 


DOCTOR      DODDRIDGE.  255 

Having  made  trial  of  the  waters  of  Bristol,  and 
his  liealth  still  continuing  more  and  more  to  decline, 
he  was  advised  by  his  physicians  and  friends,  as  the 
last  resort  in  so  threatening  a  disorder,  to  remove 
to  a  warmer  climate.  He  accordingly  went  to  Lis- 
bon. His  resignation  to  the  Divine  disposal  is 
strongly  marked  in  a  letter,  which  he  wrote  soon 
after  liis  arrival  there.  After  mentioning  his  great 
weakness  and  danger,  he  added : 

"  Nevertheless-,  X  bless  'Gt)d,^hc  most  undisturbed 
serenity  continues  in  my  mind,  and  my  strength 
holds  proportion  to  my  day.  I  still  hope  and  trust 
in  God,  and  joyfully  acquiesce  in  all  he  may  do  with 
me.  When  you  see  my  dear  friends  of  the  congre- 
gation, inform  them  of  my  circumstances,  and  as- 
sure them,  that  I  cheerfully  submit  myself  to  God. 
If  I  desire  life  may  be  restored,  it  is  chiefly  that  it 
may  be  employed  in  serving  Christ  among  them. 
I  am  enabled,  by  faith,  to  look  upon  death  as  an 
enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed  ;  and  can  cheerfully 
leave  my  dear  Mrs.  Doddrige  a  widow  in  a  strange 
land,  if  such  be  the  appointment  of  our  Heavenly 
Father.  I  hope  I  have  done  my  duty;  and  the 
Lord  do  as  seemeth  good  in  his  sight." 

Chnnge  of  climate  did  not  produce  the  desired 
efl^ect,  and  Dr.  Doddridge  continued  gradually  to 
weaken,  till  death  put  a  period  to  his  afflictions.  In 
his  last  hours  he  preserved  the  same  calmness,  vigor, 
and  joy  of  mind,  which  he  had  felt  and  expressed 
through  the  whole  of  his  illness.     The  only  pain  he 


256  DOCTOR      DODDKIDGE. 

had  in  the  thought  of  dying,  was  the  fear  of  that 
grief  and  distress  which  his  wife  would  suffer  from 
his  removal.  To  his  children,  his  congregation,  and 
his  friends  in  general,  he  desired  to  be  remembered 
in  the  most  affectionate  manner ;  nor  did  he,  in  the 
effusions  of  his  pious  benevolence,  forget  the  family 
where  he  lodged,  or  his  own  servant.  Many  de- 
vout sentiments  and  aspirations  were  uttered  by 
him :  but  the  heart  of  his  wife  was  too  much  affect- 
ed with  his  approaching  change,  to  be  able  to  recol- 
lect them  distinctly.  Though  he  died  in  a  foreign 
land,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  among  strangers,  his 
decease  was  embalmed  with  many  tears.* 

*  A  judicious  life  of  this  excellent  man,  written  by  Dr. 
Kippis,  is  prefixed  to  the  first  volume  of  Dr.  Doddridge's 
Family  Expositor. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Louis,  Duke  of  Orleans-Soame  Jenyxs-Lord  Lyttelton 
—Jonas  Haxw at— Anthony  Benezet— James  Hervey— 
Altamont,  or  the  Death  of  the  Libertine. 


SECTION    I. 
LOUIS,  DUKE  OF  ORLEANS. 

Louis,  duke  of  Orleans,   first  prince   of  tlic 
blood  royal  of  France,   and   highly   distinguished 
for  piety  and  learning,  was  born  at  Versailles,  in 
the  year  1703.     He  was  the  son  of  Philip,  duke  of 
Orleans,  regent  of  France,  and  of  Mary  Frances  of 
Bourbon.     He  discovered,  in  his  very  childhood,  a 
reverence  for  religion,  a  shining  genius,  and  an  en- 
larged understanding.     At  an  early  age  he  became 
sensible  of  the  vanity  of  titles,  pre-eminence,  and  all 
the  splendor  of  life.     He  proposed  to  himself  a  new 
mode  of  conduct,  which  he  afterwards  pursued,  di- 
viding his  time  between  the  duties  peculiar  to  his 
rank,  the  exercises  of  a  Christian,  and  the  studies 
which  improve  the  mind.     He  was,  in  every  re 


258  LOUIS,     DUKE     OF     ORLEANS. 

spect,  a  pattern  of  self-denial,  of  piety,  and  of  vir- 
tue. 

His  religion  was  not  merely  contemplative ;  for 
he  possessed  a  most  extensive  charity,  and  an  en- 
lightened zeal  for  the  public  good.  The  indigent 
of  every  age,  sex,  and  condition,  excited  his  com- 
passionate regard.  He  daily  heard  their  complaints 
in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  convent  of  St.  Genevieve; 
he  sympathized  with  them ;  he  alleviated  their  dis- 
tresses. When  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  dismiss 
them  entirely  satisfied,  his  heart  seemed  to  grant 
what  necessity  obliged  him  to  refuse.  It  is  hardly 
to  be  imagined  what  sums  this  pious  prince  expend- 
ed, in  placing  children  for  education  in  colleges  and 
nunneries,  in  portioning  young  women,  endowing 
nuns,  putting  boys  apprentices,  or  purchasing  for 
them  their  freedom;  in  setting  up  unfortunate 
tradesmen  in  business  again,  and  preventing  the 
ruin  of  others ;  in  restoring  and  supporting  noble- 
men's families;  in  relieving  the  sick,  and  paying 
surgeons  for  their  attendance  on  them.  Very  often, 
accompanied  by  a  single  servant,  he  sought  after 
poor  persons,  in  chambers  and  garrets,  and  kindly 
administered  to  their  wants.  He  made  great  im- 
provements in  physic,  agriculture,  arts,  and  manu- 
factures. He  purchased,  and  published,  a  variety 
of  useful  remedies.  His  gardens  were  filled  with 
medicinal  plants  of  all  sorts,  brought  from  the  most 
distant  climates. 

The  delight  he  found  in  piety  and  devotion,  he 


LOUIS,     DUKE     OF     Oli  LEANS.  259 

used  thus  to  express :  "  I  know,  by  experience,  that 
subhinary  grandeur  and  sublunary  pleasure  are  de- 
lusive and  vain ;  and  are  always  infinitely  below  the 
conceptions  we  form  of  them :  but,  on  the  contrary, 
such  happiness,  and  such  complacence  may  be  found 
in  devotion  and  piety,  as  the  sensual  mind  has  no 
idea  of." 

In  his  last  illness,  perceiving  that  death  was  ap- 
proaching, he  prepared  for  it  with  the  greatest 
fortitude  and  composure ;  and  spoke  of  it  as  of 
the  demise  of  another  person.  In  his  will  he  ex- 
patiated, in  the  most  pathetic  manner,  on  his  belief 
in  the  resurrection. 

At  the  concluding  period  of  life,  his  mind  seemed 
filled  with  the  love  of  God  ;  and  he  implored,  with 
the  utmost  earnestness,  the  Divine  blessing  for  his 
son,  the  duke  of  Chartres.  "  I  have  a  son,"  said 
he  to  the  minister  who  attended  him,  "  whom  I  am 
going  to  commend  to  the  all-perfect  Being.  I  en- 
treat God  that  his  natural  virtues  may  become 
Christian  graces ;  that  the  qualities  which  gain  him 
esteem,  may  be  serviceable  to  his  salvation  ;  that 
his  love  for  the  king,  and  his  love  for  me,  may  be 
the  blossoms  of  that  immortal  charity,  which  the 
holy  spirits  and  blessed  angels  enjoy." 

Thus  died  this  truly  Christian  prince,  in  the 
forty-ninth  year  of  his  age. 


SECTION    II. 

SOAMK     JENYNS. 

SoAME  Jenyns  was  born  in  London,  in  the  year 
1'704.  He  was  carefully  educated  in  his  father's 
house,  till  he  went  to  the  university  of  Cambridge, 
where  he  studied  very  diligently  for  several  years. 
In  1741,  he  represented  Cambridge  in  Parliament; 
where  he  continued  to  sit,  chiefly  for  that  place, 
but  twice  for  others,  till  1780.  In  1755,  he  was 
appointed  one  of  the  lords  of  trade ;  which  oflice 
he  held,  during  every  change  of  administration,  till 
it  was  abohshed  in  1780. 

His  character  appears  to  have  been  amiable  and 
respectable.  As  an  author  he  attained  no  small 
degree  of  reputation,  by  fine  talents,  which  had 
every  aid  that  useful  and  polite  learning  could  be- 
stow. He  had  a  critical  judgment,  an  elegant 
taste,  and  a  rich  vein  of  wit  and  humor.  His 
"View  of  the  Internal  Evidences  of  the  Christian 
Religion,"  abounds  with  just  and  important  obser- 
vations. It  was  written  under  a  full  conviction 
of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  dispensation,  and  from 
a  sincere  zeal  for  its  service. 

On  his  death-bed,  it  is  said  that,  in  looking  over 


SOAME     JEXYNS.  261 

liis  life,  lie  particularly  rejoiced  in  the  belief,  that 
his  "  View  of  the  Internal  Evidences"  had  been 
useful.  lie  spoke  of  his  death  in  such  a  manner 
as  showed  he  was  prepared  to  die.  A  very  honor- 
able testimony  to  his  talents  and  merit  was  in- 
scribed in  the  register  of  Bottisham,  by  William 
Lord  Mausell,  his  parish  minister.  "He  regrets 
the  loss  of  one  of  the  most  amiable  of  men,  and 
one  of  the  truest  Christians ; — a  man  who  pos- 
sessed the  finest  understanding  united  to  the  best 
heart." 

The  following  sentiments  of  Soame  Jenyns,  on 
the  excellence  of  the  spirit  and  precepts  of  the  gos- 
pel, appear  to  have  been  formed  so  much  under 
the  influence  of  true  relimon,  and  contain  so  strono- 
a  testimony  in  favor  of  its  divine  efficacy,  that  they 
claim  a  place  in  this  collection  : 

"  Let  us  examine,"  says  he,  "  what  are  the  new 
precepts  in  the  Christian  religion,  which  peculiarly 
correspond  with  its  object,  the  preparing  us  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  Of  these,  the  chief  are,  poor- 
ness of  spirit,  forgiveness  of  injuries,  and  charity 
to  all  men  :  to  these,  we  may  add  repentance,  faith, 
self-abasement,  and  a  detachment  from  the  world ; 
all  moral  duties  peculiar  to  this  religion,  and  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  the  attainment  of  its  end. 

"'Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit;  for  theirs  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  By  which  poorness  of 
spirit  is  to  be  understo'od,  a  disposition  of  mind, 
meek,  humble,  submissive  to  power,  void  of  ambi- 


262  SOAME     JENYNS. 

tion,  patient  of  injuries,  and  free  from  all  resent- 
ment. This  was  so  new,  and  so  opposite  to  the 
ideas  of  all  Pagan  moralists,  that  they  thought  this 
temper  of  mind  a  criminal  and  contemptible  mean- 
ness, which  must  induce  men  to  sacrifice  the  glory 
of  their  country,  and  their  own  honor,  to  a  shame- 
ful pusillanimity  :  and  such  it  appears  to  almost  all 
who  are  called  Christians,  even  at  this  day ;  who 
not  only  reject  it  in  practice,  but  disavow  it  in  prin- 
ciple, notwithstanding  this  explicit  declaration  of 
their  Master.  We  see  them  revenging  the  smallest 
affronts  by  premeditated  murder,  as  individuals,  on 
principles  of  honor ;  and,  in  their  national  capaci- 
ties, destroying  each  other  with  fire  and  sword,  for 
the  low  considerations  of  commercial  interests,  the 
balance  of  rival  powers,  or  the  ambition  of  princes  . 
we  see  them,  with  their  last  breath,  -animating  each 
other  to  a  savage  revenge  ;  and,  in  the  agonies  of 
death,  plunging,  with  feeble  arms,  their  daggers 
into  the  hearts  of  their  opponents :  and,  what  is 
still  worse,  we  hear  all  these  barbarisms  celebrated 
by  historians ;  flattered  by  poets ;  applauded  in 
theatres  ;  approved  in  senates  !  and  even  sanctified 
in  pulpits ! 

"  But  universal  practice  cannot  alter  the  nature 
of  things,  nor  universal  error  change  the  nature  of 
truth.  Pride  was  not  made  for  man  ;  but  humili- 
ty, meekness,  and  resignation,  that  is,  poorness  of 
spirit,  was  made  for  man,  and  properly  belongs  to 
his  dependent  and  precarious  situation  ;  and  is  the 


SOAME    je:N^yns.  2G3 

only  disposition  of  mind  which  can  enable  him  to 
enjoy  ease  and  quiet  here,  and  happiness  hereafter. 
Yet  was  this  important  precept  entirely  unknown, 
until  it  was  promulgated  by  him  who  said  :  '  Sufier 
little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them 
not ;  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  :  verily 
I  say  unto  you,  whosoever  shall  not  receive  the 
kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  shall  in  no  wise 
enter  therein.' 

"Another  precept,  equally  new,  and  no  less  ex- 
cellent, is,  forgiveness  of  injuries.    '  Ye  have  heard,' 
says  Christ  to  his  disciples,  'Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor,  and  hate  thine  enemy :  but  I  say  unto 
you,  love  your  enemies  ;  bless  them  that  curse  you  ; 
do  good  to  them  that  hate  you ;  and  pray  for  them 
which   despitefully  use   you,   and  persecute   you.' 
This  was  a  lesson,  so  new,  and  so  utterly  unknown, 
till  taught  by  his  doctrines,   and  enforced  by  his 
example,   that  the  wisest   moralists   of  the   wisest 
nations  and  ages,  represented  the  desire  of  revenge 
as  a  mark  of  a  noble  mind,  and  the  accomplishment 
of  it  as  one  of  the  chief  felicities  attendant  on  a 
fortunate   man.      But   how    much    more   magnan- 
imous, how  much  more  beneficial  to  mankind,  is 
forgiveness!      It   is   more    magnanimous,    because 
every  generous  and  exalted  disposition  of  the  hu- 
man mind  is  requisite   to  the  practice  of  it ;  for 
these  alone  can  enable  us  to  bear  the  wrongs  and 
insults  of  wickedness  .and   folly  with  patience,  and 
to  look  down  on  the  perpretrators  of  them,  with 


264  SOAME     JENYNS. 

pity  rather  than  indignation  :  these  alone  can  teach 
Us,  that  such  are  but  a  part  of  those  sufferings  al- 
lotted to  us  in  this  state  of  probation  ;  and  to  know 
that  to  overcome  evil  with  good,  is  the  most  glo- 
rious of  all  victories.  It  is  the  most  beneficial, 
because  this  amiable  conduct  alone  can  put  an  end 
to  a  continual  succession  of  injuries  and  retalia- 
tions ;  for  every  retaliation  becomes  a  new  injury, 
and  requires  another  act  of  revenge  for  satisfac- 
tion. 

"But  would  we  observe  this  salutary  precept, 
to  love  our  enemies,  and  to  do  good  to  those  who 
despitefully  use  us,  this  obstinate  benevolence 
would  at  last  conquer  the  most  inveterate  hearts, 
and  we  should  have  no  enemies  to  forgive.  Plow 
much  more  exalted  a  character,  therefore,  is  a 
Christian  martyr,  suffering  with  resignation,  and 
praying  for  the  guilty,  than  a  Pagan  hero,  breath- 
ing revenge,  and  destroying  the  innocent !  Yet, 
noble  and  useful  as  this  virtue  is,  before  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  religion,  it  was  not  only  unprac- 
tised, but  decried  in  principle,  as  mean  and  igno- 
minious, though  so  obvious  a  remedy  for  most  of 
the  miseries  of  this  life ;  and  so  necessary  a  quali- 
fication for  the  happiness  of  the  next. 

"  Repentance  is  another  new  moral  duty  stren- 
uously insisted  on  by  this  religion.  But  no  repent- 
ance can  remove  our  depravity,  unless  it  be  such 
as  entirely  changes  the  nature  and  disposition  of 
the  offender ;  which,  in  the  language  of  Scripture, 


SOAME     JENYNS  '-85 


is  called  'being  born  again.'  Mere  contrition  for 
past  crimes,  and  even  the  pardon  of  tbem,  cannot 
effect  this,  unless -it  operate  to  this  entire  conver- 
sion, or  new  birth,  as  it  is  properly  and  emphatic- 
ally named  ;  for  sorrow  can  no  more  purity  a  mmd 
corrnpted  by  a  long  continuance  in  vicious  habits 
than  it  can  restore  health  to  a  body  distempered 
by  a  long  course  of  vice  and  intemperance. 

"Hence,  also,  every  one  who  is  in  the  least  ac- 
quainted with  himself,  may  judge  of  the  reason- 
ableness  of  the  hope  that  is  in  him,  and  ot  his 
situation  iu  a  future  state,  by  his  present  condition. 
If  he  feels  in  himself  a  temper  proud,  turbulent, 
vindictive,  and  malevolent,  and  a  violent  attach- 
ment to  the  pleasures  or  business  of  the  world,  ho 
may  be  assured  that  he  must  be  excluded  from  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ;  not  only  because  his  conduct 
can°attract  no  such  reward;  but  because,  if  admit- 
ted, he  would  find  there  no  objects  satisfactory  to 
his  passions,  inclinations,  and  pursuits. 

"Faith  is  another  mor.il  duty  enjoined  by  this 
institution,  and  recommended  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment;  where,  iu  general,  it  signifies  an  humble, 
teachable,  and  candid  disposition,  a  trust  in  God, 
and  confidence  in  his  declarations  and  promises; 
and  it  is  always  a  direct  contrast  to  pride,  obsti- 
nacy, and  self-conceit. 

"  Self-abasement  is  another  moral  duty  inculcated 
by  this  religion  only;  which  requires  us  to  impute 
even  our  own  virtues  to  tlie  grace  and  iavor  ot 
12 


266  SOAME     JENYNS 

our  Creator ;  and  to  acknowledge  that  we  can  do 
nothing  good  by  our  own  j^owers,  unless  assisted 
by  his  over-ruling  influence.  This  doctrine  seems, 
at  first  sight,  to  infringe  on  our  free-will,  and  to  de- 
prive us  of  all  merit ;  but,  on  a  closer  examination, 
the  truth  of  it  may  be  demonstrated  both  by  reason 
and  experience :  it  is  evident  that,  in  fact,  it  does 
not  impair  the  one,  or  depreciate  the  other;  and 
that  it  is  productive  of  so  much  humility,  resigna- 
tion, and  dependence  on  God,  that  it  justly  claims 
a  place  amongst  the  most  illustrious  moral  virtues. 
"Detachment  from  the  world  is  another  moral 
virtue  constituted  by  this  religion  alone;  so  new 
that,  even  at  this  day,  few  of  its  professors  can  be 
persuaded  that  it  is  required,  or  that  it  is  any  vir- 
tue at  all.  By  this  detachment  from  the  w^orld,  is 
not  to  be  understood  a  seclusion  from  society,  ab- 
straction from  all  business,  or  retirement  to  a  gloomy 
cloister.  Industry  and  labor,  cheerfulness  and  hos- 
pitality, are  frequently  recommended;  nor  is  the 
acquisition  of  wealtli  and  honors  prohibited,  if  they 
can  be  obtained  by  honest  means,  and  a  moderate 
decree  of  attention  and  care :  but  such  an  unremit- 
ted  anxiety,  and  perpetual  application,  as  engross 
our  whole  time  and  thoughts,  are  forbidden ;  be- 
cause they  are  incompatible  with  the  spirit  of  this 
religion,  and  most  utterly  disqualify  us  for  the  at- 
tainment of  its  great  end.  We  toil  on  in  the  vain 
pursuits  and  frivolous  occupations  of  the  world,  die 
in  our  harness,  and  then  expect,  if  no  gigantic  crime 


SOAMEJEXYNS.  2CV 

Stand  in  the  way,  to  step  immediately  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  :  but  without  a  previous  detach- 
ment from  the  business  of  this  world,  we  cannot  be 
prepared  for  the  happiness  of  another. 

"  Yet  this  could  make  no  part  of  the  morality  of 
Pagans,  because  their  virtues  were  altogether  con- 
nected with  this  business,  and  consisted  chiefly  in 
conducting  it  with  honor  to  themselves,  and  benefit 
to  the  public.  Christianity  has  a  nobler  object  in 
view,  which,  if  not  attended  to,  must  be  lost  for 
ever.  This  object  is  that  celestial  mansion,  of 
which  we  should  never  lose  sight,  and  to  which  we 
should  be  ever  advancing,  during  our  journey 
through  life:  but  this  by  no  means  precludes  us 
from  performing  the  business,  or  enjoying  the 
amusements,  of  travellers,  provided  they  detain  us 
not  too  long,  nor  lead  us  out  of  our  way. 

"  Another  precept,  first  noticed  and  first  enjoined 
by  this  institution,  is,  charity  to  all  men.  What 
this  is,  we  may  best  learn  from  the  admirable 
description,  contained  in  the  following  words: 
'Charity  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind;  charity  en- 
vieth  not,  charity  vauntcth  not  itself;  is  not  puffed 
up ;  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly ;  seeketh  not 
her  own  ;  is  not  easily  provoked  ;  thinketh  no  evil ; 
rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the  trutli ; 
beareth  all  things ;  believeth  all  things ;  hopeth  all 
things ;  endureth  all  things.' 

"  Here  we  have  an  accurate  delineation  of  this 
brio-ht  constellation  of  all  virtues  ;   which  consists 


268  SOAME     JENYNS. 

not,  as  many  imagine,  in  the  building  of  monas- 
teries, endowment  of  hospitals,  or  the  distribution 
of  alms ;  but  in  such  an  amiable  disposition  of  mind, 
as  exercises  itself  every  hour  in  acts  of  kindness, 
patience,  complacence,  and  benevolence  to  all 
around  us;  and  which  alone  is  able  to  promote 
happiness  in  the  present  life,  or  render  us  capable 
of  receiving  it  in  another. 

"  And  yet  this  is  totally  new,  and  so  it  is  declared 
to  be,  by  the  Author  of  it :  'A  new  commandment 
I  give  unto  you,  that  ye  love  one  another;  as  I 
have  loved  you,  that  ye  love  one  another ;  by  this 
shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye 
have  love  one  to  another.'  This  benevolent  dispo- 
sition is  made  the  great  characteristic  of  a  Chris- 
tian, the  test  of  his  obedience,  and  the  mark  by 
which  he  is  to  be  distinguished. 

"This  love  for  each  other,  is  that  charity  just 
now  described,  and  contains  all  those  qualities  which 
are  there  attributed  to  it ;  humility,  patience,  meek- 
"ness,  and  beneficence :  without  which  we  must  live 
in  perpetual  discord,  and  consequently  cannot  pay 
obedience  to  this  commandment  of  loving  one  an- 
other: a  commandment  so  sublime,  so  rational,  and 
so  beneficial,  so  wisely  calculated  to  correct  the  de- 
pravity, diminish  the  wickedness,  and  abate  the 
miseries  of  human  nature,  that,  did  we  universally 
comply  with  it,  we  should  soon  be  relieved  from  all 
the  inquietudes  arising  from  our  own  unruly  pas- 
sions, anger,  envy,  revenge,  malice,  and  ambition ; 


SOAME     JENYNS.  2G9 


as  well  as  from  all  those  injuries,  to  which  we  are 
perpetually  exposed,  from  the  indulgence  of  the 
same  passions  in  others.  It  would  also  preserve 
oUr  minds  in  such  a  state  of  tranquility,  and  so 
prepare  them  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  that  we 
should  slide  out  of  a  life  of  peace,  love,  and  benevo- 
lence, into  that  celestial  society,  by  an  almost  im- 
perceptible transition." 


SECTION    III. 
IjORD      LYTT  ELTON. 

Gtec/KaE  Lyttelton,  the  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Lyt- 
tolton,  of  Hagley,  in  Worcestershire,  was  born  in 
1709.  H3  was  educated  at  Eton,  and  was  so  much 
distinguished  there,  that  his  exercises  were  recom- 
mended aa  models  to  his  schoolfellows.  At  the 
university  ot  Oxford,  where  his  education  was  com- 
pleted, he  pursued  his  classical  studies  with  uncom- 
mon avidity  and  success ;  and  retained  the  same 
reputation  of  superiority. 

As  a  writer,  both  in  prose  and  verse.  Lord  Lyt- 
telton  attained  considerable  eminence ;  and,  by  his 
great  abilities  and  integrity,  became  highly  useful 
to  his  country. 

In  the  pride  of  juvenile  confidence,  with  the  help 
of  corrupt  conversation,  he  had  entertained  doubts 
of  the  truth  of  Christianity ;  but,  about  the  thirty- 
eighth  year  of  his  age,  he  thought  the  time  come 
when  it  was  no  longer  fit  to  doubt  or  believe  by 
chance,  and  applied  himself  seriously  to  the  great 
question.  His  studies,  being  honest,  ended  in  con- 
viction. He  found  that  religion  was  true,  and  what 
he  had  learned  he  endeavored  to  teach,  by  "  Ob- 


LOKD      LYTT  ELTON.  271 

servations  on  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul ;"  a  trea- 
tise to  which  infidelity  has  never  been  able  to  fabri- 
cate a  specious  answer.  This  book,  his  fither  had 
the  happiness  of  seeing,  and  expressed  his  pleasure 
ill  a  letter  which  deserves  to  be  inserted : 

"  I  have  read  your  religious  treatise  with  infinite 
pleasure  and  satisfaction.  The  style  is  fine  and 
clear,  the  arguments  close,  cogent,  and  irresistible. 
May  the  King  of  kings,  whose  glorious  cause  you 
have  so  well  defended,  reward  your  pious  labors ; 
and  grant  that  I  may  be  found  worthy,  through 
the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  be  an  eye-witness  of 
that  happiness,  which  I  do  not  doubt  he  will  boun- 
tifully bestow  upon  you  !  In  the  meantime,  I  shall 
never  cease  glorifying  God,  for  having  endowed 
you  with  such  useful  talents,  and  given  me  so  good 

a  son. 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"Thomas  Lyttelton." 

After  a  life  spent  in  honorable  pursuits,  this  dis- 
tino^uished  person  was  seized  with  a  severe  illness, 
about  the  sixty-fourth  year  of  his  age,  which  soon 
proved  mortal.  Of  his  death,  a  very  affecting  and 
instructive  account  has  been  given  by  his  physician. 

"  On  Sunday  evening,  the  symptoms  of  his  lord- 
ship's disorder,  which  for  a  week  past  had  alarmed 
us,  put  on  a  fatal  appearance  ;  and  his  lordship  be- 
lieved himself  to  be  a  dying  man.  From  this  time 
he    suffered    by    restlessness,    rather    than    pain. 


272  LORD     LYTTELTON. 

Though  his  nerves  were  apparently  much  fluttered, 
his  mental  faculties  never  seemed  stronger,  when 
he  was  thoroughly  awake. 

*'  Though  his  lordship  wished  his  approaching 
dissolution  not  to  be  lingering,  he  waited  for  it 
with  resignation.  He  said,  '  It  is  a  folly,  a  keeping 
me  in  misery,  now  to  attempt  to  prolong  life  :'  yet 
he  was  easily  persuaded,  for  the  satisfaction  of 
others,  to  do  or  take  any  thing  thought  proper  for 
him.  On  Saturday,  he  had  been  remarkably  bet- 
ter, and  we  Avere  not  ^vithout  some  hopes  of  his 
recovery. 

"  On  Sunday,  about  eleven  in  the  forenoon,  his 
lordship  sent  for  me  :  he  said  he  felt  a  great  hurry 
of  spirits,  and  wished  to  have  a  little  conversation 
with  me,  in  order  to  divert  it.  He  then  proceeded 
to  open  the  fountain  of  that  heart,  from  whence 
goodness  had  so  long  flowed,  as  from  a  copious 
spring.  '  When  I  first  set  out  in  the  world,'  said 
he,  '  I  had  friends  who  endeavored  to  shake  my 
belief  in  the  Christian  religion.  I  saw  difiiculties 
which  staggered  me  ;  but  I  kept  my  mind  open  to 
conviction.  The  evidences  and  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, studied  with  attention,  made  me  a  most 
firm  and  persuaded  believer  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. I  have  made  it  the  rule  of  my  life,  and  it  is 
the  ground  of  my  future  hopes.  I  have  erred  and 
sinned  ;  but  have  repented,  and  never  indulged  any 
vicious  habit.  In  politics,  and  public  fife,  I  have 
made  public  good  the  rule  of  my  conduct.    I  never 


LORD     LYTTELTON.  2*73 

gave  counsels  which  I  did  not  fit  thq  time  tliiiik 
best.  I  have  seen  that  I  was  sometimes  in  the 
wrong  ;  hut  I  did  not  err  designedly.  I  have  en- 
deavored, in  private  life,  to  do  all  the  good  in  my 
power ;  and  never  for  a  moment  could  indulge 
malicious  or  unjust  designs  upon  any  person  what- 
soever.' 

"  At  another  time  he  said  :  '  I  must  leave  my 
soul  in  the  same  state  it  was  in  before  my  illness  ;  I 
find  this  a  very  inconvenient  time  for  solicitude 
about  any  thing.' 

"  On  the  evening,  when  the  symptoms  of  death 
came  on,  he  said  :  '  I  shall  die  ;  but  it  will  not  be 
your  fault.'  When  Lord  and  Lady  Yalentia  came 
to  see  his  lordship,  he  gave  them  his  solemn  bene- 
diction, and  said  :  '  Be  good,  be  virtuous,  my  lord ; 
you  must  come  to  this.'  Thus  he  continued  giving 
his  dying  benediction  to  all  around  him.  On  Mon- 
day morning,  a  lucid  interval  gave  some  small 
hopes,  but  these  vanished  in  the  evening  ;  and  he 
continued  dying,  though  with  very  little  uneasi. 
ness,  till  Tuesday  morning,  August  22,  (1773,) 
when,  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock,  he  expired 
almost  without  a  groan." 

12* 


SECTION    IV. 
JONAS      HANWAY. 

A  PERSON  SO  disinterested  in  private  life,  and  so 
religiously  concerned  for  the  hapj^iness  of  others, 
as  was  the  distinguished  Jonas  Hanway,  demands 
a  place  in  these  memoirs.  This  excellent  man  de- 
voted his  time,  his  fortune,  his  powers  of  body  and 
mind,  to  the  service  of  his  fellow-creatures.  To 
improve  the  morals  of  the  pyor,  to  alleviate  their 
distresses,  and  to  provide  for  their  offspring  suit- 
able instruction  and  useful  employment,  were  ob- 
jects he  had  much  at  heart ;  and  a  great  part  of 
his  life  was  spent  in  promoting  these  benevolent 
views.  It  may  justly  be  said  of  him,  that,  next  to 
his  reverence  for. the  Divine  Being,  the  love  of  hu- 
man kind  was  the  strongest  feeling  of  his  breast ; 
and  that,  when  he  had  engaged  in  any  office  of 
general  benevolence,  no  obstacles,  but  those  which 
were  insuperable,  could  discourage  his  active  per- 
severance. 

As  he  well  knew  how  much  the  happiness  of  the 
poorer  classes  of  maiakind  depends  on  frugahty  and 
liabitual  industry,  he  studied  to  promote  amongst 
them  virtues  so  necessary  to  their  condition.     It 


JOXAS     HAN  WAT.  2V5 

gave  him  a  very  sensible  pleasure,  when  any  of  the 
numerous  objects  of  his  charity,  who  came  to  i)ay 
him  their  respects,  were  cleanly  and  neatly  dressed, 
and  appeared  with  cheerful  and  contented  coun- 
tenances. He  treated  them  with  respect  and  atten- 
tion ;  entered  into  their  concerns  with  paternal 
affection  ;  and  let  them  know  that,  on  any  real 
emergency,  they  might  with  confidence  apply  to 
him.  It  was  this,  rather  than  the  largeness  of  his 
gifts,  that  endeared  him  so  much  to  the  people. 
lie  never  walked  out,  but  he  was  followed  by  the 
o-ood  wishes,  silent  or  expressed,  of  some  to  whom 
he  had  afforded  rehef  To  meet  the  grateful  eyes 
of  persons  whom  he  had  served,  was  to  him  a  high 
enjoyment ;  and  no  one  partook  of  it  oftener. 

This  benevolent  and  pious  man,  through  the 
whole  course  of  his  life,  remembered  that  he  was 
an  accountable  being.  He  examined  his  own  con- 
duct, with  the  same  degree  of  severity  which  men 
too  often  adopt  iu  their  scrutiny  into  the  conduct 
of  others ;  and  considered  that  the  time  would 
come,  and  might  not  be  far  off,  when  he  should 
reflect  Avith  sorrow  on  every  bad  action.  There 
are  many  well-disposed  men,  who,  knowing  that 
death  is  inevitable,  endeavor  to  banish  from  their 
minds  the  awful  thought ;  but  Han  way  seemed  to 
derive  a  solemn  pleasure  from  indulging  the  idea. 
To  excite  the  frequent  recollection  of  his  condition 
and  end,  he  caused  to  be  inscribed  on  a  plate  of 
brass  the  following  lines,  which  seemed  to  have 


2Y6  JONAS    HAN  WAY. 

been  designed  as  his  epitaph,  and  which  he  often 
seriously  reviewed : 

"  I  believe  that  my  Redeemer  liveth, 

And  that  I  shall  also  rise  from 

The  grave, 

JoxAs  Han-vtay  ; 

Who,  trusting  in  that  good  Providence 

Which  so  visibly  governs  the  world, 

Passed  through  a  variety  of  fortunes  -with 

Patience ; 

Living  the  greater  part  of  his  days 

In  foreign  lands,  ruled  by  arbitrary  power, 

He  received  the  deeper  impression 

Of  the  happy  constitution  of  his  own  country ; 

Whilst 

The  persuasive  laws  contained  in  the 

Kew  Testament, 

And  the  consciousness  of  his  own  depravity, 

Softened  his  heart  to  a  sense 

Of  the  various  wants  of  his 

Fellow-creatures. 

Reader, 

Inquire  no  furtner : 

The  Lord  have  mercy  on  his  soul  and  thine  ! 

*'  Apprehensive  of  the  too  partial  regard  of  his  friends,  and 
esteeming  plain  truth  above  the  proudest  trophies  of  monu- 
mental flattery ;  at  the  age  of  fifty -one,  he  caused  this  plate 
and  inscription  to  be  made." 

In  the  summer  of  1786,  his  health  sensibly  de- 
clined ;  and  he  perceived  that  he  was  verging  to- 
wards that  state,  which  he  had  oflen  contemplated 
with  solemn  complacence.  During  the  progress  of 
a  tedious,  and  sometimes  very  painful  illness,  he 
never  exj)ressed  the  least  impatience.      When  he 


J  U  N  A  S     II  A  N  W  A  Y  .  277 

grew  so  weak  as  to  be  confined  to  his  bed,  he  re- 
quested his  physicians  to  speak  frankly,  and  with- 
out reserve,  of  his  disorder ;  and  when  he  was 
convinced  that  he  could  not  recover,  he  sent  and 
paid  all  his  tradesmen ;  he  took  leave  of  his  most 
intimate  friends;  dictated  some  letters  to  absent 
acquaintances ;  and  discoursed  concerning  his  af- 
fairs with  tranquillity,  and  even  with  cheerfulness. 
To  his  surgeon,  who  attended  him  with  unceasing 
anxiety,  he  said :  *'  If  you  think  it  will  be  of  ser- 
vice in  your  practice,  or  to  any  one  who  may  come 
after  me,  I  beg  you  will  have  my  body  opened  :  I 
am  willing  to  do  as  much  good  as  possible." 

He  expressed  his  satisfaction,  that  his  mind  had 
never  wandered  or  been  perplexed,  in  any  part  of 
his  illness.  In  the  morning  previous  to  his  death 
he  said  to  an  intimate  friend  :  "  I  have  no  uncom- 
fortable reflections  concerning  my  approaching 
end ;  but  I  find  life  so  strong,  that  I  think  I  shall 
not  leave  the  world  without  a  sharp  conflict." 
Soon  after  this  the  disorder  increased,  and  put  a 
2)eiiod  to  a  long  and  valuable  life,  spent  in  promo- 
ting the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  mankind. 

The  following  stanzas  are  worthy  of  a  place  in 
the  character  of  this  truly  pious  and  benevolent 
man  : 


And  thou,  blest  Hanway !  long  thy  country's  prayer, 
Exulting  now  in  kindred  worlds  above, 

Co-heir  of  llowai-d !  deign  the  muse  to  hear, 
Though  angels  greet  thee  with  a  brother's  love. 


278  JONAS     HANWAY. 

Far  though  removed  from  this  diminished  earth, 

A  crown  of  glory  beaming  on  thy  brow, 
The  God  who  fixed  it  there — ^to  note  thy  worth, 

Bids  the  rapt  lyre  with  all  thy  spirit  glow. 

Warm  in  the  way,  behold  what  myriads  come, 
Wliile  tears  of  ecstasy  and  anguish  flow  \ 

Their  blended  incense  pouring  on  thy  tomb, 
To  mark  an  empire's  joy,  an  empire's  wo. 

Close  to  thy  Howard — O  congenial  shade  ! 

On  the  pure  column  shall  thy  bust  have  place ; 
Though  deep  in  every  bosom  is  portrayed 

Those  grateful  records  time  shall  ne'er  erase. 

The  generous  plan  that  public  yirtue  draws, 

The  fair  design  that  charity  imparts, 
The  genius  kindling  in  Religion's  cause. 

Cherish  their  champion  in  our  faithful  hearts. 

Near  Hanway's  bust  the  Magdalen  shall  kneel, 
A  chasten'd  votary  of  Compassion's  dome  ;* 

With  pious  awe  the  holiest  ardors  feel. 

And  bless  the  founder  of  her  peaceful  home  : 

And  0,  Philanthropy !  thy  heav'n-rear'd  fanef 
Shall  oft  avow  the  good  man's  zeal  divine, 

When  bounty  leads  a  poor  and  orphan  train 
To  clasp  their  little  arms  round  Hanway's  shrine. 

Transcendent  energies  of  grace  sublime,  . 

Whose  magic  goodness  work'd  with  double  power 
Cradled  the  outcast  babe  who  knew  no  crime, 

And  bade  the  sinner  turn  and  blush  no  more. 

Ah,  full  of  honors  as  of  years,  farewell ! 

Thus  o'er  thy  ashes  shall  Britannia  sigh  ; 
Each  age,  each  sex,  thy  excellence  shall  tell. 

Which  taught  the  young  to  live,  the  old  to  die  ! 

*  The  Magdalen  House.  f  The  Foundling  HospitnL 


SECTio:Nr  Y. 

ANTHONY     BENEZET. 

Anthony  Benezet  was  born  in  France,  in  the 
year  1V13.  The  persecution  on  account  of  reh- 
gious  opinions,  which  then  existed  in  tliat  country, 
induced  his  parents  to  leave  France.  After  a  resi- 
dence of  many  years  in  London,  they  and  their 
son,  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  went  to  America, 
and  settled  in  Philadelphia. 

He  was  a  man  of  sound  understanding,  of  great 
piety,  humility,  and  self-denial,  and  of  a  very  be- 
nevolent disposition.  Being  desirous  of  spending 
his  life  in  a  manner  the  most  useful  to  his  fellow- 
creatures,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  education  of 
youth.  In  this  arduous,  but  truly  honorable  em- 
ployment, he  passed  about  forty  years;  and  ac- 
quitted himself  very  much  to  the  satisfaction  of 
parents  and  children.  His  great  object  was,  to 
imbue  tho  minds  of  his  pupils  with  reverence  for 
religion,  and  to  train  them  up  in  a  course  of  vh'tue. 
Pec^uniary  advantages  were  of  small  moment  in  his 
estimation,  of  which  he  gave  many  striking  proofs. 
A  short  time  before  his  decease,  he  declared,  in 
a  letter  to  a  friend,  that  though  leisure  and  retire- 


280  ANTHONY     BENEZET. 

ment  would  be  very  agreeable  to  him,  he  was  well 
satisfied  to  remain  in  his  occupation ;  and  that  he 
knew  no  other,  whatever  mij^ht  be  its  advantages, 
for  which  he  would  exchange  his  employment,  un- 
less  it  were  a  commission  to  preach  and  propagate, 
as  a  minister,  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

When  the  school  established  in  Philadelphia, 
"  for  the  instruction  of  black  people  and  their  off- 
spring," was  suspended,  on  account  of  the  indispo- 
sition of  their  teacher,  he  voluntarily  surrendered 
his  own  school  to  other  competent  persons,  and 
undertook  the  education  of  those  people,  though, 
in  a  pecuniary  respect,  he  lost  considerably  by  the 
change.  His  humility,  and  his  sympathy  with  that 
unhappy  race  of  men,  disposed  him  to  think  no 
condescensions  degrading,  by  which  he  could  be 
peculiarly  useful  to  them :  and  he  was  greatly  de- 
sirous, that  they  might  be  so  improved  in  their 
minds,  as  to  render  the  freedom  which  they  had 
lately  recovered,  a  real  blessing  to  themselves,  and 
a  benefit  to  the  State. 

He  was  a  friend  to  the  poor  and  distressed  of 
every  description,  and  labored  most  earnestly  for 
their  relief  and  welfare.  It  may  indeed  be  said  of 
him,  that  his  whole  life  was  spent  in  going  about 
doing  good  to  men.  He  appeared  to  do  every 
thing,  as  if  the  words  of  his  Saviour  were  con- 
tinually sounding  in  his  ears:  "Wist  ye  not -that 
I  must  be  about  my  Father's  business  ?"  He  was, 
as  Dr.  Rush    observed,    a   man    of  truly   catholic 


ANTHONY      BENEZET.  281 

spirit ;  one  Avho  loved  piety  and  virtue  in  others, 
wherever  he  found  them ;  and  who  respected  all 
sincere  worshippers  of  God,  in  whatever  manner 
that  worship  was  performed. 

The  miseries  of  the  enslaved  Africans,  and  the 
great  injustice  done  to  them,  very  deeply  affected 
his  compassionate  heart.  He  published  many  tracts 
on  the  subject ;  supported  an  extensive  correspon- 
dence with  persons  in  Europe  and  America,  who 
were  likely  to  aid  his  benevolent  views ;  and  ex- 
erted himself  to  the  utmost,  to  ameliorate  the  con- 
dition of  the  negroes,  and  to  procure  the  entire 
abolition  of  the  trade.  As  he  was  one  of  the 
earliest  advocates  of  these  injured  men,  and  inde- 
fatigably  pursued  his  object,  we  may  fairly  attri- 
bute to  his  labors,  with  the  Divine  blessing  upon 
them,  a  great  part  of  that  spirit  of  inquiry  into 
their  situation,  and  sympathy  w^ith  their  distresses, 
which  have  spread  over  the  world ;  and  which,  we 
trust,  will,  ere  long,  destroy  this  system  of  inhu- 
manity and  injustice. 

About  a  year  before  his  decease,  his  health  be- 
came much  impaired  ;  but  being  of  a  lively  dispo- 
sition, very  temperate,  and  zealously  concerned  to 
occupy  his  talents  to  the  last,  he  supported  his 
school,  till  he  was  quite  disabled  from  performing 
the  duties  of  it.  But  his  charity  and  beneficence 
continued  with  life.  The  last  time  he  walked 
across  his  room,  was  to  take  from  his  desk  six 
dollars,  which  he  gave  to  a  poor  widow  whom  he 


282  ANTHONY      BENEZET. 

liad  lon<x  assisted  to  maintain.  Three  hours  before 
Ilis  death,  he  delivered  to  his  executors  a  number 
of  tracts,  in  sheets,  on  religious  subjects,  with  di- 
rections for  their  being  bound  and  dispersed.  lie 
devised  nearly  the  whole  of  his  estate,  after  the 
decease  of  his  wife,  to  trustees,  for  the  support  and 
benefit  of  the  Negro  school,  of  which  he  had  been 
the  tutor.  And  thus,  having  lived  a  most  useful 
and  exemplary  life,  he  was  well  prepared  for  the 
approach  of  death.  He  endured  his  pains  with 
much  patience ;  and,  with  Christian  composure  of 
mind,  resigned  this  mortal  life,  in  the  firm  expecta- 
tion of  a  happy  immortality. 

The  loss  of  this  beneficent  man  was  deeply  felt 
by  his  fellow-citizens  ;  and  his  funeral  was  attended 
by  a  great  number  of  persons  of  all  ranks,  and  of 
all  religious  professions ;  and  many  hundreds  of 
Negroes  joined  the  procession.  It  may  justly  be 
said,  that,  "  the  mourners  went  about  the  streets," 
and  that  his  death  was  embalmed  with  tears.  An 
officer,  who  had  served  in  the  American  array  dur- 
ing the  late  war,  in  returning  from  the  funeral, 
pronounced  a  sti'iking  culogium  upon  him.  It  con- 
tained but  a  few  words :  "  I  would  rather,"  said 
he,  "be  Anthony  Benezet,  in  that  coffin,  than 
George  Washington,  with  all  his  fame." 


SECTION    VI. 
AMES     HERVEY. 

James  Hervey,  an  ingenious  and  pious  clergy- 
man, and  a  very  popular  writer,  was  born  at  Hard- 
ingstone,  in  Northamptonshire,  in  the  year  1714. 
He  had  his  education  at  the  free  grammar  school 
at  Northampton  ;  and  at  Lincoln  college,  in  Ox- 
ford. After  a  residence  of  seven  years,  he  left  the 
university;  and  became,  in  1736,  curate  to  his 
father,  then  possessed  of  the  liviug  of  Weston- 
Favell.  He  was  an  excellent  scholar,  being  master 
of  the  three  learned  languages,  and  well-read  in 
the  classics. 

In  1750,  at  his  father's  death,  he  succeeded  to 
the  livings  of  Weston  and  Collingtree ;  which 
being  within  five  miles  of  each  other,  he  attended 
alternately  with  his  curate,  till  the  ill  state  of  his 
health  confined  him  to  Weston.  Here  he  after- 
wards constantly  resided,  and  diligently  pursued 
his  labors,  both  in  his  ministerial  office,  and  in  his 
study,  as  long  as  possible,  under  the  disadvantage 
of  a  weak  constitution.  He  did  not  satisfy  himself 
with  preaching  only  on  the  Lord's  day;  but,  whilst 
his  strength  permitted  him,  held  a  regular  lecture 


284  JAMES     HEKVEY. 

in  the  middle  of  the  week,  which  was  very  well 
attended.  He  also  diligently  catechised  the  chil- 
dren of  his  parishioners,  and  was  regular  in  his  pas- 
toral visits  at  their  houses,  till  he  was  confined  to 
his  own,  when  he  encouraged  them  to  come  to 
him,  for  his  friendly  and  rehgious  advice.  By 
these  exertions,  as  well  as  the  labors  of  his  study, 
he  fell  into  a  decHne,  attended  with  an  almost  in- 
cessant hectic  cough,  and  much  acute  pain,  which 
he  supported  with  most  exemplary  patience. 

In  1746,  he  published  his  "Meditations  among 
the  Tombs,"  and  ">Reflections  on  a  Flower  Gar- 
den ;"  and  the  following  year  appeared  the  "  Con- 
templations on  the  Night  and  Starry  Heavens ;" 
and  "  A  Winter  Piece."  The  sublime  sentiments 
in  these  Pieces  are  conveyed  in  a  flowing  and  ele- 
gant style.  They  have  been  much  read  ;  and  are 
eminently  calculated  to  cherish  pious  and  grateful 
emotions  towards  the  God  of  nature,  and  the 
Source  of  every  blessing.  In  1775,  he  published 
his  "  Theron  and  Aspasio,  or  a  Series  of  Letters 
and  Dialogues  on  the  most  Important  Subjects." 
He  was  the  author  of  several  other  works,  which 
bear  the  marks  of  genius,  and  of  a  truly  benevo- 
lent and  rehgious  mind. 

His  moral  character  was  highly  exemplary ;  his 
temper  placid,  disinterested,  imaffectedly  humble ; 
and  in  his  transactions  with  others,  he  was  ever 
cheerful,  punctual,  just,  and  candid  to  persons  of 
every  denomination.    He  sometimes  met  with  very 


J  A  M  E  S     H  E  R  V  E  Y .  285 

cross  occurrences ;  but  be  ever  rose  above  tbem ; 
be  was  never  known  to  be  in  a  passion.  His  bu- 
mility  rendered  bim  invulnerable.  When  be  was 
misrepresented  and  calumniated,  be  used  to  say : 
"  Our  enemies  are  sometimes  our  best  friends,  and 
tell  us  useful  trutbs ;  and  tben  we  sbould  amend 
our  faults,  and  be  tbankful  for  sucb  information. 
If  wbat  tbey  say  be  not  true,  and  spoken  from 
malice  only,  tben  sucb  persons  are  to  be  considered 
as  diseased  in  tbeir  minds,  and  ought  to  be  prayed 
for.  Tbey  are  to  be  pitied  ;  and  I  might  as  justly 
be  angry  witb  men  who  are  diseased  in  their 
bodies."  All  this  be  spoke  witb  bumility,  serious- 
ness, and  great  sweetness  of  spirit :  for  it  was  the 
language  of  bis  beart,  and  not  of  affectation. 

In  actions  of  benevolence  and  charity,  though  be 
had  some  equals,  it  is  certain  that  be  bad  no  supe- 
riors, as  far  as  bis  means  extended.  He  preferred 
clothing  the  poor,  and  supplying  tbem  witb  neces- 
sary articles,  on  the  best  terms,  to  giving  them 
money.  "  I  am,"  said  be,  "  God's  steward  for  the 
poor ;  and  I  must  husband  the  little  pittance  I 
have  to  bestow  u])on  tbem,  and  make  it  go  as  far 
as  possible."  But,  on  special  occasions,  when 
money  would  be  particularly  useful,  be  would  give 
to  a  ])rudent  housekeeper,  distressed  by  sickness  or 
misfortunes,  five  or  more  guineas  at  a  time  ;  and 
be  was,  on  all  proper  occasions,  careful  that  it 
should  not  be  known  from  whom  the  money  came. 
By  bis  last  will,  he  bequeathed  the  future  profits 


286  JAMES     HERVEY. 

of  all  his  works  to  benevolent  uses ;  excepting  his 
"  Meditations,"  the  copy  of  which  he  sold  during 
his  lifetime,  and  applied  the  sums  arising  from  its 
sale  and  former  impressions,  amounting  to  about 
seven  hundred  pounds,  to  the  relief  of  the  poor 
and  distressed.  He  said  that  this  money  was  de- 
voted to  God  ;  and  that  he  would  on  no  account 
apply  it  to  worldly  uses ;  that  he  wrote,  not  for 
profit  or  fame,  but  to  serve  the  cause  of  religion : 
and  as  Providence  had  blessed  his  attempts,  he 
thought  himself  bound  to  relieve  the  distresses  of 
his  fellow-creatures,  with  the  product  of  his  Jnbors. 

The  cultivation  of  real  religion  and  holiness  in 
lieart  and  life,  which  this  good  man  strenuously 
recommended,  induced  some  persons  to  charge 
him  with  holding  tenets  injurious  to  society,  and 
calculated  to  make  men  melancholy,  and  regardless 
of  the  lawful  concerns  of  this  world.  But  every 
charge  of  this  nature  is  abundantly  refuted  by  his 
writings,  and  the  whole  tenor  of  his  life ;  and  par- 
ticularly by  an  excellent  and  striking  passage,  in 
his  "  Contemplations  on  the  Starry  Heavens ;" 
from  which  the  following  lines  are  extracted : 

"  Some,  I  believe,  are  apt  to  imagine,  that  they 
must  abandon  all  the  satisfactions  of  this  world,  if 
they  become  zealous  candidates  for  the  felicity  of 
another.  But  this  is  a  very  mistaken  notion.  Re- 
ligion was  never  intended  to  strike  ofi"  the  wheels 
of  business,  or  to  cut  asunder  the  sinews  of  indus- 
try; but  rather,  to  make  men  industrious  from  a 


JAMES     UEliVEY.  287 

principle  of  conscience,  not  from  tlie  instigations  of 
avarice  ;  that  so  they  may  promote  their  immortal 
happiness,  even  while  they  provide  for  their  tem- 
poral maintenance.  It  has  no  design  to  extirpate 
our  passions,  but  only  to  restrain  their  irregulari- 
ties:  neither  would  it  extinguish  the  delights  of 
Bense,  but  prevent  them  from  evaporating  into 
vanity,  and  subsiding  into  gall.  A  person  may  be 
cheerful  among  his  friends,  and  yet  joyful  in  God. 
He  may  taste  the  sweets  of  this  earthly  estate ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  cherish  his  hopes  of  a  nobler 
inheritance  in  heaven." 

Though  this  sincere  Christian  was  ardent  and 
laborious,  in  serving  his  Great  Master,  and  in  pro- 
moting the  rehgious  welfare  of  his  fellow-crea- 
tures ;  yet  he  had  a  very  humble  sense  of  his  own 
services ;  and  expressed  to  his  friends,  during  his 
indisposition,  great  regret  that  he  had  not  em- 
braced every  oi)portunity  afforded  him,  to  advance 
the  cause  of  his  Redeemer.  These  expressions 
were  made  with  much  tenderness  of  spirit,  and 
were  accompanied  with  tears.  But  lest  his  senti- 
ments and  views  should  be  misinterpreted,  he 
added  ;  "  Do  not  think  that  I  am  afraid  to  die.  I 
assure  you  I  am  not.  I  know  what  my  Saviour 
hath  done  for  me,  and  I  long  to  be  dismissed.  But 
I  wonder  at  the  love  of  Christ,  in  doing  so  much 
for  me  ;  and  lament  to  think  how  little  I  have  done 
for  him." 

On  a  particular  occasion,  when  his  physician  was 


288  JAMES     IIEEVEY. 

taking  bis  leave,  he  observed  to  him,  with  great 
affection  and  sensibility,  that  as  he  had,  not  long 
before,  a  dangerous  fall  from  his  horse,  by  which 
he  was  much  bruised ;  and  as  he  had  been  lately  ill, 
and  then  looked  very  pale ;  he  hoped  he  would 
reflect  on  those  narrow  escapes,  so  often  fatal  to 
others,  as  a  kind  of  warning  from  God  to  him,  and 
remember  them  as  such;  adding:  "How  careful 
ought  we  to  be,  to  improve  those  years  which  re- 
main, at  a  time  of  life  when  but  few  can  remain  for 

TJS!" 

The  last  illness  of  this  truly  excellent  man  com- 
menced m  the  autumn  of  the  year  1'758;  and,  in  a 
few  months,  made  a  great  and  affecting  progress. 
His  strength  became  exhausted,  his  body  extremely 
emaciated,  and  his  whole  frame  so  sore,  that  he 
could  scarcely  bear  to  be  touclied,  when  it  was 
necessary  to  move  him.  Yet,  under  all  this  calam- 
ity, he  was  ever  praising  God  for  his  mercies,  and 
for  enduing  him  with  patience. 

About  three  hours  before  his  death,  he  strongly 
and  affectionately  urged  a  friend  of  his  who  was 
present,  to  pay  all  due  attention  to  the  cai'e  of  his 
everlasting  concerns,  as  here  there  is  no  abiding- 
place,  no  continuing  city.  He  entreated  him  not 
to  be  overcharged  with  the  cares  of  this  life ;  but 
to  attend,  amidst  the  multiplicity  of  his  business,  to 
the  "  one  thing  needful." 

The  physician  observing  the  great  difficulty  and 
pain  with  which  he  spoke,  (for  he  was  almost  suffo- 


JAMES      II  E  K  V  E  Y 


289 


cated  with  phlegm  and  frequent  vomitings,)  and 
perceiving  by  his  pulse,  that  the  pangs  of  death 
were  coming  on,  desired  that  he  would  spare  him- 
self. 

"  Ko,"  said  he,  "  doctor,  no.     You  tell  me  I  have 
but  a  few  moments  to  live  :  oh  !  let  me  spend  them 
in  adoring  our  great  Redeemer."     He  then  repeat- 
ed the  26th  verse  of  the  73d  Psalm:  "Though  my 
flesh  and  my  heart  fail  me,  yet  God  is  the  strength 
of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever :"  and  he  ex- 
patiated in  a  most  striking  manner,  on  these  words 
of  the  Apostle :    "  All   things  are  yours,  life  and 
death  ;  for  ye  are  Christ's."     "  Here,"  said  he,  "  is 
the  treasure  of  a  Christian.     Death  is  reckoned  in 
this  inventory;  and  a  noble  treasure  it  is.     How 
thankful  am  I  for  death,  as  it  is  the  passage  through 
which  I  go  to  the  Lord  and  Giver  of  eternal  life ; 
and  as  it  frees  me  from  all  the  misery  you  now  see 
me  endure,  and  which  I  am  willing  to  endure,  as 
long  as  God  thinks  fit :  for  I  know  he  will,  by  and 
by,  in  his  own   good  time,   dismiss  me   from  the 
body.    These  light  afilictions  are  but  for  a  moment, 
and  then  comes  an  eternal  weight  of  glory.     O! 
welcome,  welcome  death !     Thou  mayest  well  be 
reckoned  among  the  treasures  of  the  Christian.    To 
live  is  Christ,  but  to  die  is  gain." 

After  these  expressions,  as  the  doctor  was  taking 

his  final  leave  of  him,  the  dying  saint   expressed 

great  gratitude  for  his  visits  and  attentions,  though 

it  had  been  long  out  of  the  power  of  medicines  to 

13 


290  JAMES     HEEVEY. 

cure  him.  He  then  paused  a  little;  and  being 
raised  in  his  chair,  he,  with  great  serenity  and 
sweetness  of  countenance,  though  the  pangs  of 
death  were  upon  him,  repeated  these  words: 
"Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace,  according  to  thy  most  holy  and  comfortable 
word,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation." 

In  about  an  hour  after  he  had  uttered  these  ex- 
pressions, he  yielded  up  his  pious  soul  to  God,  with- 
out a  sigh  or  struggle,  in  the  forty-fifth  year  of  his 
age. 


SECTION  yii. 

ALTAMONT ; 

OR.   THE   DEATH    OF    THE   LIBERTIXE. 

The  following  account  of  an  affecting,  mournful 
exit,  and  the  reflections  that  accompany  it,  are 
solemn  and  impressive.  We  shall  present  them  to 
the  reader,  in  the  words  of  Doctor  Young,  who 
w^as  present  at  the  melancholy  scene  : 

"  Is  not  the  death-bed  of  a  profligate  a  prime 
school  of  wisdom  ?  Are  we  not  obliged,  when  we 
are  invited  to  it  ?  for  what  else  should  reclaim  us  ? 
Tlie  pulpit?  We  are  prejudiced  against  it.  Be- 
sides, an  agonizing  profligate,  though  silent,  out- 
preaches  the  most  celebrated  the  pulpit  ever  knew. 
But,  if  he  speaks,  his  words  might  instruct  the  best 
instructors  of  mankind.  Mixed  in  the  warm  con- 
verse of  life,  we  think  with  men  ;  on  a  death-bed, 
with  God. 

"  Tliere  are  two  lessons  of  this  school  written,  as 
it  were,  in  capitals,  which  they  who  run  may  read. 
First,  he  that,  in  this  his  minority,  this  field  of  dis- 
cipline and  conflict,  inst(\ad  of  grasping  the  wea- 
pons of  his  warfare,  is  for  ever  gathering  flowers, 


292  ALTAMONT. 

and  catching  at  butterflies,  with  his  unarmed  hand, 
ever  making  idle  pleasure  his  pursuit,  must  pay  for 
it  his  vast  reversion :  and  on  opening  his  final  ac- 
count, (of  which  a  death-bed  breaks  the  seal,)  shall 
find  himself  a  beggar,  a  beggar  past  beggary ;  and 
shall  passionately  wish  that  his  very  being  were 
added  to  the  rest  of  his  loss. 

"  Secondly,  he  shall  find  that  truth.  Divine 
truth,  however,  through  life,  injured,  wounded, 
suppressed,  is  victorious,  immortal :  that,  though 
with  mountains  overwhelmed,  it  will,  one  day, 
burst  out  like  the  fires  of  Etna;  visible,  bright, 
and  tormenting,  as  the  most  raging  flame.  This 
now  (oh,  my  friend  !)  I  shall  too  plainly  prove. 

"  The  sad  evening  before  the  death  of  the  noble 
youth,  whose  last  hours  suggested  these  thoughts, 
I  was  with  him.  No  one  was  present  but  his  phy- 
sician, and  an  intimate  whom  he  loved,  and  whom 
he  had  ruined.  At  my  coming  in,  he  said  :  '  You 
and  the  physician  are  come  too  late.  I  have  nei- 
ther life  nor  hope.  You  both  aim  at  miracles. 
You  would  raise   the    dead !'     '  Heaven,'    I    said, 

*  was  merciful — '  '  Or,'  exclaimed  he,  '  I  could  not 
have  been  thus  guilty.  What  has  it  not  done  to 
bless,  and  to  save  me  !  I  have  been  too  strong  for 
Omnipotence  !    I  have  plucked  down  ruin.'    I  said, 

*  The  blessed  Redeemer, — '  '  Hold  !  hold  !  you 
wound  me  !  That  is  the  rock  on  which  I  split :  I 
denied  his  name  !' 

"  Refusing  to  hear  any  thing  from  me,  or  take 


A  L  T  A  M  O  N  T  .  293 

any  thing  from  the  physician,  ho  lay  silent,  as  far 
as  sudden  darts  of  pain  would  permit,  till  the  clock 
struck  :  then  with  vehemence  he  exclaimed  :  '  Oh  ! 
time  !  time  !  it  is  fit  thou  shouldst  thus  strike  thy 
murderer  to  the  heart !  How  art  thou  fled  for 
ever  !  A  month  ! — O,  for  a  single  week  !  I  ask 
not  for  years ;  though  an  age  were  too  little  for 
the  much  I  have  to  do.'  On  my  saying,  we  could 
not  do  too  much,  that  heaven  was  a  blessed  place — 
*  So  much  the  worse. — 'Tis  lost !  'tis  lost !  Heaven 
is  to  me  the  severest  place  of  hell !' 

"  Soon  after,  I  proposed  prayer  :  '  Pray  you  that 
can.  I  never  prayed.  I  cannot  pray,  nor  need  I. 
Is  not  heaven  on  my  side  already  ?  It  closes  with 
my  conscience.  Its  severest  strokes  but  second  my 
own.'  Observing  that  his  friend  was  much  touched 
at  this,  even  to  tears,  (who  could  forbear  ?  I  could 
not,)  with  a  most  affectionate  look,  he  said,  '  Keep 
those  tears  for  thyself  I  have  undone  thee  :  Dost 
thou  weep  for  me  ?     That  is  cruel.    What  can  pain 


me  more 


9' 


"  Here  his  friend,  too  much  affected,  would  have 
left  him.  '  No,  stay — thou  still  mayest  hope  ; 
therefore  hear  me.  How  madly  have  I  talked  ! 
How  madly  hast  thou  listened,  and  believed !  but 
look  on  my  present  state,  as'*a  full  answer  to  thee, 
and  to  myself  This  body  is  all  w^eakness  and  pain  ; 
but  my  soul,  as  if  stung  up  by  torment  to  greater 
fitrength  and  spirit,  is  full  powerful  to  reason  ;  full 
mighty  to  suffer.     And  that  which  thus  triumphs 


294  ALTAMONT  . 

within  the  jaws  of  immortality,  is  doubtless,  im- 
mortal. And,  as  for  a  Deity,  nothing  less  than  an 
Almighty  could  inflict  what  I  feel.' 

*'  I  was  about  to  congratulate  this  passive  invol- 
untary confessor,  on  his  asserting  the  two  prime 
articles  of  his  creed,  extorted  by  the  rack  of  nature, 
when  he  thus  very  passionately  exclaimed :  *  No, 
no  !  let  me  speak  on.  I  have  not  long  to  speak. 
My  much  injured  friend !  my  soul,  as  my  body, 
lies  in  ruins ;  in  scattered  fragments  of  broken 
thought !  Remorse  for  the  past,  throws  my 
thought  on  the  future.  Worse  dread  of  the  fu- 
ture, strikes  it  back  on  the  past.  I  turn,  and  turn, 
and  find  no  ray.  Didst  thou  feel  half  the  moun- 
tain that  is  on  me,  thou  wouldst  struggle  with  the 
martyr  for  his  stake ;  and  bless  Heaven  for  the 
flames ;  that  is  not  an  everlasting  flame ;  that  is 
not  an  unquenchable  fire.' 

"  How  were  we  struck !  yet,  soon  after,  still 
more.  With  what  an  eye  of  distraction,  what  a 
face  of  despair,  he  cried  out :  '  My  principles  have 
poisoned  my  friend !  my  extravagance  has  beg- 
gared my  boy !  my  unkindness  has  murdered  my 
wife !  And  is  there  another  hell  ?  Oh !  thou 
blasphemed,  yet  indulgent  Lord  Go^  !  hell  itself 
is  a  refuge,  if  it  hide  me  from  thy  frown  !'  Soon 
after  his  understanding  failed.  His  terrified  ima- 
gination uttered  horrors  not  to  be  repeated,  or 
ever  forgotten.  And  ere  the  sun  (which,  I  hope, 
has   seen   few  like   him)    arose,   the   gay,   young, 


ALTAMONT.  295 

noble,  ingenuous,  accomplished,  and  most  wretched 
Altamont  expired  ! 

"  If  this  is  a  man  of  pleasure,  what  is  a  man  of 
pain  ?  How  quick,  how  total,  is  the  transit  of 
such  persons !  In  what  a  dismal  gloom  they  set 
for  ever!  How  short,  alas!  the  day  of  their  re- 
joicing !  For  a  moment  they  glitter,  they  dazzle  ! 
In  a  moment,  where  are  they  ?  Oblivion  covers 
their  memories !  Ah !  would  it  did !  Infamy 
snatches  them  from  oblivion.  In  the  long-living 
annals  of  infamy  their  triumphs  are  recorded. 
Thy  sufferings,  poor  Altamont !  still  bleed  in  the 
bosom  of  the  heart-stricken  friend — for  Altamont 
had  a  friend.  He  might  have  had  many.  His 
transient  morning  might  have  been  the  dawn  of 
an  immortal  day.  His  name  might  have  been  glo- 
riously enrolled  in  the  records  of  eternity.  His 
memoiy  might  have  left  a  sweet  fragrance  behind 
it,  grateful  to  the  surviving  friend,  salutary  to  the 
succeeding  generation.  With  what  capacity  was 
he  endowed !  with  what  advantages  for  being 
greatly  good !  But  with  the  talents  of  an  angel, 
a  man  may  be  a  fool.  If  he  judges  amiss  in  the 
supreme  point,  judging  right  in  all  else,  but  aggra- 
vates his  folly :  as  it  shows  him  wrong,  though 
blessed  with  the  best  capacity  of  being  right." 


CHAPTEH    X. 

Baron  Haller — John  Howard — N'ewton's  Letters — Mar- 
garet M.  Althens — Zimmerman— James  Hay  Beattie — 
Elizabeth  Smith — Elizabeth  Carter — Sir  William  Jones 
— Conclusion. 


SECTION    I. 

BARON     HALLER. 

Albert  Haller,  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
literary  characters  of  his  age,  was  the  son  of  a 
citizen  and  advocate  of  Berne,  where  he  was  born, 
in  the  year  1708.  The  accounts  of  his  early  dis- 
play of  talents,  are  as  extraordinary  as  almost  any 
upon  record.  He  chose  the  medical  profession,  in 
which  he  became  very  eminent.  He  was  an  anat- 
omist, a  physiologist,  and  a  botanist,  of  the  first 
order.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  of  him,  that  he 
was  one  of  the  best  informed  men  in  Europe.  He 
wrote  and  spoke,  with  equal  facility,  the  German, 
French,  and  Latin  langnao-es ;  and  read  all  the 
other  tongues  of  civilized  Europe,  except  the  Scla- 


BARON     HALLER.  297 

vonic  dialects.  His  acquaintance  with  books  was 
so  extensive,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  point  out 
any  of  the  least  note,  which  he  had  not  perused, 
and  of  which  the  contents  did  not  dwell  upon  his 
memory.  He  was  a  poet,  too,  of  distinguished 
merit.  The  critics  of  Germany  reckon  Haller 
among  the  first  who  gave  sublimity,  richness,  and 
harmony  to  their  poetical  language ;  and  who  de- 
scribed nature  in  its  true  colors. 

The  talents  and  knowledge  of  Haller,  his  works 
in  various  departments  of  science  and  literature, 
and  his  unblemished  integrity  and  virtue,  rendered 
him,  in  the  highest  degree,  respectable  among  the 
learned  of  Europe  ;  and  his  friendship  and  corres- 
pondence were  courted  by  the  most  celebrated 
men  of  his  time.  He  was  professor  of  medicine 
in  the  university  of  Gottingen.  He  filled  suc- 
cessively the  botanical,  chemical,  and  anatomical 
chairs  ;  and  raised  the  reputation  of  the  university 
to  a  very  high  pitch.  There  he  resided  near  seven- 
teen years  ;  and  then  returned  to  Berne,  his  native 
place,  where  he  jvas  elected  a  member  of  the  sove- 
reign council ;  and  enjoyed  the  first  authority  in 
the  administration  of  public  afiairs,  till  the  time  of 
his  death,  which  took  place  in  the  year  IV 77. 

This  great  and  good  man,  in  the  early  part  of 
his  life,  had  doubts  concerning  the  objects  of  the 
Christian  faitb.  But  these  doubts  were  dispelled 
by  a  successful  application  to  every  branch  of 
science,  on  the  one  hand  ;  and  by  a  candid  exam> 
13* 


298  BARON     HALLER. 

ination  of  the  sacred  oracles,  on  the  other.  The 
first,  by  purging  his  soul,  according  to  his  own 
emphatic  phrase,  of  arrogance  and  pride,  filled  it 
with  true  poverty  of  spirit.  The  second  convinced 
him  that  the  Divine  revelation,  conveyed  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  is  a  boon  worthy  of  the  merciful 
Author  of  our  nature  to  give  ;  and  such  as  is  fit 
for  guilty  mortals  to  receive,  with  humble  grati- 
tude and  reverence. 

There  are  hours  of  mental  depression  in  human 
life,  which  can  neither  be  prevented  nor  remedied, 
by  the  most  prosperous  worldly  circumstances,  or 
by  the  greatest  skill  of  man.  The  healing  art, 
which  Haller  applied  with  singular  success  to  the 
diseases  of  the  body,  could  not,  as  he  experienced 
in  his  own  case,  reach  that  dissatisfaction  with  the 
present,  and  that  apprehension  of  a  future  state, 
which  so  frequently  disturb  the  breasts  of  man- 
kind. But  he  found  other  aids,  which  proved  a 
sovereign  remedy  to  all  his  fears  and  depressions. 
The  Divine  laws  were  to  him  a  delightful  subject 
of  attention,  and  a  joyful  object  of  hope.  His 
confidence  in  the  goodness  of  God,  refreshed  his 
mind  ;  and  so  fortified  it,  that  he  contemplated, 
without  dismay,  the  king  of  terrors. 

The  consolations  which  he  felt  himself,  he  was 
anxious  to  impart  to  others.  In  imitation  of  the 
Saviour  of  the  world,  he  went  about  doing  good 
to  the  souls  and  the  bodies  of  men.  He  eagerly 
seized    the    numberless   opportunities,    which    his 


BABON     UALLEK.  2d0 

profession  as  a  pliysiciaa  gave  him,  of  convincing 
those  with  whom  he  conversed,  of  the  truth,  and 
of  converting  them  to  the  practice  of  the  Chris- 
tian  reUgion.  And  this  he  did,  not  only  by  his 
instructions,  but  by  his  example.  For  he  was  char- 
itable to  the  poor ;  he  sympathized  in  the  tenderest 
manner  with  the  distressed ;  and  was  humane  and 
just  in  all  his  dealings  with  the  sons  of  men. 

A  thousand  incidents,  which  passed  unheeded 
by  the  vulgar  eye,  recalled  to  his  mind  the  Deity. 
And  when  he  recollected  or  heard  that  great  name, 
he  gave  w^ay,  in  whatever  company  or  circumstan- 
ces he  happened  to  be  placed,  to  some  pious  ejacu- 
lations, with  his  eyes  and  hands  Hfted  up  towards 
heaven. 

While  his  feeling  mind  embraced  in  the  bonds 
of  love  all  his  fellow-cret^tures,  and  interested  him 
in  their  present  and  future  concerns,  there  was  one 
person,  whom  God  and  nature  had  recommended 
to  his  pecuHar  tenderness  and  care.  He  had  a 
daughter,  dear  to  him  as  his  own  soul.  He  knew 
the  inquietudes,  to  which  the  common  lot  of  hu- 
manity would  subject  her  through  life  ;  and  the 
fears  that  would  alarm  her  tender  breast  at  the 
approach  of  death,  of  which  it  was  some  consola- 
tion to  him,  that  "  he  should  not  Uve  to  be  the 
mournful  witness."  To  her  he  addressed,  at  dif- 
ferent times,  but  in  a  regular  succession,  a  number 
of  letters,  on  the  truths  of  the  Christian  religion. 
They  were  afterwards,  by  his  permission,  pubhshcd 


800  BAEON     HALLER. 

for  the  benefit  of  the  world  at  large.  The  work 
possesses  great  merit ;  and  is  particularly  proper 
for  the  perusal  and  study  of  young  persons. 

We  shall  conclude  our  account  of  Baron  Haller, 
with  an  extract  from  the  last  letter  contained  in 
the  publication  just  mentioned.  It  marks  the 
writer's  high  sense  of  the  importance  of  religion; 
his  solicitude  for  his  daughter's  happiness ;  and  his 
strong  confidence  in  the  future  rewards  of  piety 
and  virtue : 

"  Let  us  employ  the  time  that  is  j^resent :  eter- 
nity will  be  our  reward,  if  we  make  a  good  use  of 
it.  Let  us  always  have  before  om-  eyes  the  nature 
and  consequences  of  sin :  let  us  remember  that  it 
will  deprive  us  of  the  favor  of  God,  and  expose  us 
to  his  displeasure.  Reflect  on  the  value  of  that  life 
and  immortality  which  Christ  has  brought  to  light 
by  the  gospel.  The  enjoyments  of  this  present  short 
life,  which  are  indeed  but  puerile  amusements,  must 
disappear,  when  placed  in  competition  with  the 
greatness  and  durability  of  the  glory  which  is  to 
come. 

"  By  the  mercy  of  God,  we  are  restored  from  the 
lowest  state  of  abasement  and  dejection.  We  are 
animated  with  the  most  comfortable  promises.  We 
now  walk  with  confidence  in  that  road,  which  has 
been  marked  out  for  us  with  so  much  wisdom ;  and 
which  so  well  corresponds  with  our  new  desires  and 
abilities.  We  leave  behind  us  those  vices  which 
tended  to  estrange  us  from  God  and  happiness :  be- 


BARON      II  A  L  L  E  R  .  301 

fore  us  is  a  benevolent  Being,  who  offers  to  the  vic- 
torious, incorruptible  crowns,  as  the  recompense  of 
victory ;  which  victory  he  also  helps  us  to  gain.  We 
may  now  rest  satisfied  with  respect  to  our  future 
condition,  without  perplexing  ourselves  about  the 
trials  we  shall  have  to  undergo,  and  which  are  yet 
at  a  distance.  Let  us  be  careful  to  employ  to  ad- 
vantage the  present  hour.  The  means  of  salvation, 
the  sacred  writings,  the  precepts  of  our  Saviour,  are 
in  our  hands.  AYe  insensibly  draw  near  to  the  de- 
sired harbor ;  the  approaches  of  dissolution  become 
less  formidable,  the  nearer  we  advance  to  the  happy 
mansions  of  eternity,  where  error  and  vice  will  be 
disarmed,  and  have  no  more  power  over  us. 

"Receive,  my  daughter,  these  most  imj^ortant 
of  all  truths,  from  a  father,  who  considers  himself 
on  the  verge  of  life :  they  are  the  most  precious 
marks  of  tenderness  which  he  can  give  you.  These 
instructions  would  have  been  less  imperfect,  if  his 
capacity  had  been  more  extensive.  They  are,  how- 
ever, the  result  of  his  reflections,  and  of  the  re- 
searches which  he  has  made  after  truth ;  they  are 
also  the  effect  of  his  internal  conviction.  Your 
father,  who  now  addresses  you,  has  had  his  doubts; 
he  has  sometimes  been  mistaken ;  and  has  wished, 
in  those  moments,  that  the  consequences  of  sin  were 
not  so  grievous.  He  has  not  been  exempt  from 
falling :  but  the  victorious  grace  of  God  has  kindly 
come  to  his  relief 

"  The  king  of  terrors  approaches  me  with  hasty 


302  BAEON     HALLEB. 

steps :  but  I  behold  his  advances  without  dismay. 
Beyond  that  era  of  my  existence,  I  see  objects  of 
joy  and  hope,  which  invite  me  to  leave  this  world, 
and  to  step  forward  into  eternity ;  into  mansions  of 
holiness  and  bliss,  where  death  shall  be  banished  for 
ever,  and  where  sin  shall  have  no  place.  After 
having  finished  your  course,  you  will,  I  trust,  again 
meet  your  father,  in  those  glorious  and  peaceful 
abodes,  where  the  idea  of  our  frail  mortality  shall 
no  longer  disturb  our  breasts,  or  fill  them  with 
shame ;  and  where  the  miseries  of  this  life  shall  no 
longer  draw  tears  from  our  eyes." 


SECTION    II. 
JOHN     HOAVARD. 

John  Howard,  the  indefatigable  friend  of  the 
poor  and  unfortunate,  was  born  at  Hackney,  in  the 
year  1V26.  Of  his  character  and  pious  labors,  Dr. 
Aikin  speaks  in  the  following  terms : 

"Among  those  truly  illustrious  persons  who,  in 
the  several  ages  and  nations  of  the  world,  have 
marked  their  track  through  life,  by  a  continued 
course  of  doing  good,  few  have  been  so  distin- 
guished either  by  the  extent  of  the  good  produced, 
or  by  the  purity  of  motive  and  energy  of  character 
exhibited  in  the  process  of  doing  it,  as  the  late 
John  Howard.  To  have  adopted  the  cause  of  the 
prisoner,  the  sick,  and  the  destitute,  not  only  in  his 
own  country,  but  throughout  Europe ;  to  have  con- 
siderably alleviated  the  burden  of  present  misery 
among  those  unfortunate  classes,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  to  have  provided  for  the  reformation  of  the 
vicious,  and  the  prevention  of  future  crimes  and 
calamities;  to  have  been  instrumental  in  the  actual 
establishment  of  many  plans  of  humanity  and  utility, 
and  to  have  laid  the  foundation  for  much  more  im- 
provement hereafter ;  and  to  have  done  all  this,  as 


304  JOHN      II  O  W  A  E  D  . 

a  private,  ■unaided  individual,  struggling  with  toils, 
dangers,  and  difficulties,  which  might  have  appalled 
the  most  resolute;  is  surely  a  range  of  beneficence, 
which  scarcely  ever  before  came  within  the  com- 
pass of  one  man's  exertions." 

Attachment  to  religion  was  a  principle  which  had 
been  imbibed  by  Howard  in  his  youth  ;  and  which 
continued  steady  and  uniform  through  life.  Though 
he  seems  early  to  have  made  up  his  mind,  as  to  the 
doctrines  he  thought  best  founded,  and  the  mode 
of  worship  he  most  approved,  yet  religion  abstract- 
ly considered,  as  the  relation  between  man  and  his 
Make]*,  and  the  grand  support  of  morality,  appears 
to  have  been  the  principal  object  of  his  regard. 
This  excellent  principle  enlarged  his  heart,  and  led 
him  to  commiserate  the  distresses  of  his  fellow- 
creatures  of  every  description ;  and  at  length 
prompted  him  to  devote  his  life  to  the  relief  of 
suffering  humanity. 

Deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  importance 
of  his  designs,  and  of  the  uncertainty  of  human  life, 
he  was  desirous  of  doing  as  much  as  possible  within 
the  allotted  limits.  And  the  number  of  prisons  and 
hospitals  which  he  visited,  in  a  short  period  of  time, 
is  surprising.  The  pious  and  well-governed  dis- 
position by  which  he  was  actuated,  is  forcibly  ex- 
pressed in  the  following  passage  extracted  from 
one  of  his  interesting  pubHcations: 

"To  my  country  I  commit  the  result  of  my  past 
labors.     It  is  my  intention  again  to  quit  it,  for  the 


JOHN      HOWARD.  305 

purpose  of  revisiting  Russia,  Turkey,  and  some 
other  countries,  and  extending  ray  tour  in  the  East. 
I  am  not  insensible  of  the  dangers  that  must  attend 
such  a  journey.  Trusting,  however,  in  the  protec- 
tion of  that  kind  Providence  which  has  hitherto 
preserved  me,  I  calmly  and  cheerfully  commit  my- 
self to  tlie  disposal  of  unerring  Wisdom.  Should  it 
please  God  to  cut  off  my  life  in  the  prosecution  of 
this  design,  let  not  my  conduct  be  uncandidly  im- 
puted to  rashness  or  enthusiasm :  but  to  a  serious, 
deliberate  conviction,  that  I  am  pursuing  the  path 
of  duty ;  and  to  a  sincere  desire  of  being  made  an 
instrument  of  greater  usefulness  to  my  fellow-crea- 
tures, than  could  be  expected  in  the  narrow  circle 
of  a  retired  life." 

A  little  before  the  last  time  of  his  leaving  Eng- 
land, when  a  friend  expressed  his  concern  at  part- 
ing with  him,  from  an  apprehension  that  they 
should  never  meet  again,  he  cheerfully  repUed : 
"  We  shall  soon  meet  in  heaven ;"  and,  as  he  rather 
expected  to  die  of  the  plague  in  Egypt,  he  added : 
"The  way  to  heaven  from  Grand  Cairo  is  as  near 
as  from  London."  He  said  he  was  perfectly  easy  as 
to  the  event ;  and  made  use  of  the  words  of  Father 
Paul,  who,  when  his  physicians  told  him  he  had  not 
long  to  live,  said:  "It  is  well:  whatever  pleases 
God,  pleases  me." 

That  in  bis  singular  and  extensive  course  of 
beneficence  he  was  not  influenced  by  a  desire  of 
attracting  the  notice,  or  gaining  the  applause,  of 


306  JOHN     HOWARD, 

liis  fellow-creatures,  appears  from  his  general  life 
and  conduct ;  and  is  particularly  evident,  from  the 
spirit  and  firmness  with  which  he  opposed  the 
design,  formed  by  many  persons  of  distinction  in 
this  country,  to  erect  a  statue,  or  some  other 
monument,  to  his  honor. 

The  following  passages  are  selected  from  some 
of  his  letters  on  this  subject :  "  To  hasten  to  the 
other  very  distressing  affair ;  oh,  why  could  not 
my  friends,  who  know  how  much  I  detest  such 
parade,  have  stopped  so  hasty  a  measure  !  As  a 
private  man  with  some  peculiarities,  I  wished  to 
retire  into  obscurity  and  silence.  Indeed,  my 
friend,  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  being  thus 
dragged  out.  I  immediately  wrote ;  and  I  hope 
something  may  be  done  to  stop  it.  My  best 
friends  must  disapprove  the  measure.  It  deranges 
and  confounds  all  my  schemes ;  my  exaltation  is 
my  fall,  my  misfortune.  My  best  and  most  inti- 
mate friends  have,  I  see  by  the  papers,  been  so 
kind  as  not  to  subscribe  to  what  you  so  justly  term 
a  hasty  measure.  Indeed,  if  nothing  now  can  be 
done — I  speak  from  my  heart — never  poor  creature 
was  more  dragged  out  in  public." 

That  in  all  this  there  was  no  affectation,  clearly 
appeared  from  the  letter  he  sent  to  the  sub- 
scribers ;  in  which,  after  expressing  his  grati- 
tude, he  displayed  so  determined  a  repugnance 
against  admitting  the  proposed  honor,  deprecat- 
ing it  as  the  severest   of  punishments,  that  noth- 


JOHN     HOWARD.  307 

ing  could  be  urged  in  reply,  and  the  business  M'as 
dropped. 

Whilst  this  great  and  good  man  was  ardently 
laboring  for  the  relief  of  distress,  it  pleased  Divine 
Providence  to  suffer  him  to  fall  a  victim  to  a  dis- 
ease, supposed  to  be  the  plague,  at  Cherson,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1790.  He  was  perfectly 
sensible,  during  his  illness,  except  at  short  inter- 
vals, till  within  a  very  few  hours  before  his  deatli. 
He  was  fully  prepared  for  the  event,  and  often  said, 
that  he  had  no  wish  for  life,  but  as  it  gave  him  the 
means  of  relieving  his  fellow-creatures. 

A  celebrated  orator*  has  passed  so  fine  a  eulo- 
gium  on  the  character  of  this  excellent  man,  that 
we  msert  it  with  particular  satisfaction  : 

"  I  cannot  name  this  gentleman  without  remark- 
ing, that  his  labors  and  writings  have  done  much 
to  open  the  eyes  and  hearts  of  mankind.  He  has 
visited  all  Europe,— not  to  survey  the  sumptuous- 
ness  of  palaces,  or  the  stateliness  of  temples  ;  not 
to  make  accurate  measurements  of  the  remains  of 
ancient  grandeur,  nor  to  form  a  scale  of  the  curi- 
osity of  modern  art ;  nor  to  collect  medals,  or  col- 
late manuscripts :  but  to  dive  into  the  depths  of 
dungeons ;  to  plunge  into  the  infection  of  hospi- 
tals ;  to  survey  the  mansions  of  sorrow  and  pain  ; 
to  take  the  guage  and  dimensions  of  misery, 
depression,  and  contempt ;  to  remember  the  for- 
gotten, to  attend  to  the  neglected,  to  visit  the  for- 
*  Burke. 


508  JOHN     HOWARD. 

saken,  and  compare  and  collate  the  distresses  of  all 
men  in  all  countries.  His  plan  is  original :  it  is  as 
full  of  genius  as  it  is  of  humanity.  It  was  a  voy- 
age of  discovery ;  a  circumnavigation  of  charity. 
Already  the  benefit  of  his  labor  is  felt  more  or  less 
in  every  country.  I  hope  he  will  anticipate  his 
final  reward,  by  seeing  all  its  effects  fully  realized 
in  his  own." 

We  shall  conclude  the  account  of  this  benevo- 
lent man,  with  a  few  beautiful  lines,  written  on  his 
death,  by  Dr.  Aikiu  : 

Howard,  thy  taLk  is  done  !  thy  Master  calls, 

And  summons  thee  from  Cherson's  distant  walls. 

"  Come,  well-approved  !  my  faithful  servant,  come  1 

No  more  a  wand'rer,  seek  thy  destined  home. 

Long  have  I  marked  thee,  with  o'erruling  eye, 

And  sent  admiring  angels  from  on  high, 

To  walk  the  paths  of  danger  by  thy  side. 

From  death  to  shield  thee,  and  through  snares  to  guide. 

My  minister  of  good,  I've  sped  the  way. 

And  shot  through  dungeon  glooms  a  leading  ray, 

To  cheer,  by  thee,  with  land,  unhop'd  relief. 

My  creatures,  lost  and  'whelmed  in  guilt  and  grief. 

I've  led  thee,  ardent,  on  through  wond'ring  climes, 

To  combat  human  woes  and  human  crimes. 

But  'tis  enough! — thy  great  commission's  o'er; 

I  prove  thy  faith,  thy  love,  thy  zeal,  no  more. 

Nor  droop,  that  far  from  country,  kindred,  friends, 

Thy  life,  to  duty  long  devoted,  ends : 

What  boots  it  where  the  high  reward  is  giv'n. 

Or  whence  the  soul,  triumphant,  springs  to  heav'n." 


Dr.  Aikin  has  written  a  judicious  and  interesting  account  of 
John  Howard,  under  the  title  of  "  A  View  of  the  Character 
of  John  Howard,  Esq.,"  to  which  we  refer  the  reader  for  fur- 
ther information  respecting  this  truly  pious  and  worthy  man. 


SECTION    III. 
EW  TON'S     LETTERS. 

The  following  interesting  examples  of  the  power 
of  religion  on  the  minds  of  persons  in  humble  life, 
are  extracted  from  a  work  entitled  "  Cardi^jhonia, 
or  the  Utterance  of  the  Heart  :"* 

"  Though  the  grand  evidence  of  those  truths 
upon  which  our  hopes  are  built,  arises  from  the 
authority  of  God  declarhig  them  in  his  word,  and 
revealing  them  by  his  Spirit  to  the  awakened 
heart ;  (for  till  the  heart  is  awakened,  it  is  incar 
pable  of  receiving  this  evidence ;)  yet  some  of 
these  truths  are  so  mysterious,  so  utterly  repug- 
nant to  the  judgment  of  depraved  nature,  that 
through  the  remaining  influence  of  unbelief  and 
vain  reasoning,  the  temptations  of  Satan,  and  the 
subtle  arguments  with  which  some  men,  reputed 
wise,  attack  the  foundations  of  our  faith,  the  minds 
even  of  believers  are  sometimes  capable"  of  being 
shaken.  I  know  no  better  corroborating  evidence, 
for  the  relief  of  the  mind  under  such  assaults,  than 
the  testimony  of  dying  persons  ;  especially  of  such 

*  By  John  Netttox,  Rector  of  St.  Mary,  "Woolnoth,  London. 


310  NEWTON'S     LETTERS. 

as  have  lived  out  of  the  noise  of  controversy,  and 
who,  perhaps,  never  heard  a  syllable  of  what  has 
been  started  in  these  evil  days,  against  some  of  the 
important  articles  of  the  Christian  faith. 

*'  Permit  me,  my  lord,  to  relate,  upon  this  occa- 
sion, some  things  which  exceedingly  struck  me,  in 
the  conversation  I  had  with  a  young  Avoman,  whom 
I  visited  in  her  last  illness  about  two  years  ago. 
She  was  a  sober,  prudent  person,  of  plain  sense ; 
she  could  read  the  Bible,  but  had  read  little  be- 
sides. Her  knowledge  of  the  world  was  nearly 
confined  to  the  parish  ;  for  I  suppose  she  was  sel- 
dom, if  ever,  twelve  miles  from  home.  She  had 
known  the  Gospel  about  seven  years  before  the 
Lord  visited  her  with  a  lingering  consumption, 
which,  at  length,  removed  her  to  a  better  world. 

"  A  few  days  previous  to  her  death,  in  prayer  by 
her  bedside,  I  thanked  the  Lord  that  he  gave  her 
now  to  see  that  she  had  not  followed  cunningly- 
devised  fables.  When  I  had  finished,  she  repeated 
that  expression  ;  '  No,'  said  she,  '  not  cunningly- 
devised  fables ;  these  are  realities  indeed  ;  I  feel 
their  truth ;  I  feel  their  comfort.  O,  tell  my 
friends,  tell  my  acquaintance,  tell  inquiring  souls, 
tell  poor  sinners,  tell  all  the  daughters  of  Jerusa- 
lem,' alluding  to  Solomon's  Song,  '  what  Jesus  has 
done  for  my  soul !  Tell  them,  that  now,  in  the 
time  of  need,  I  find  him  my  Beloved,  and  ray 
Friend  ;  and,  as  such,  I  commend  him  to  them.' 

"She  then  fixed  her  eyes  steadfastly  upon  me 


ne^wton's    letters.  311 

and  proceeded,  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  as 
follows :  '  Sir,  you  are  highly  favored,  in  being 
called  to  preach  the  gospel.  I  have  often  heard 
you  with  pleasure ;  but  give  me  leave  to  tell  you, 
that  I  now  see  all  you  have  said,  or  that  you  can 
say,  is  comparatively  but  little.  Xor  till  you  come 
into  my  situation,  and  have  death  and  eternity  full 
in  your  view,  will  it  be  possible  for  you  to  conceive 
the  vast  weight  and  importance  of  the  truths  you 
declare.  Oh !  sir,  it  is  a  serious  thing  to  die ;  no 
"words  can  express  what  is  needful  to  support  the 
soul  in  the  solemnity  of  a  dying  hour.' 

"  When  I  visited  her  again,  she  said :  *  I  feel 
that  my  hope  is  fixed  upon  the  Rock  of  Ages :  I 
know  in  whom  I  have  believed.  But  the  approach 
of  death  presents  a  prospect  which  is,  till  then, 
hidden  from  us,  and  which  cannot  be  described.' 
She  said  much  more  to  the  same  purpose :  and  in 
all  she  spoke,  there  were  dignity,  weight,  and  evi- 
dence. We  may  well  say,  "with  Elihu,  *  Who 
teacheth  like  the  Lord  ?' 

"  Many  instances  of  the  like  kind  I  have  met 
with  here.  I  have  a  poor  girl  near  me,  whose  na- 
tural capacity  is  very  small ;  but  the  Lord  has  been 
pleased  to  make  her  acquainted  alternately  with 
great  temptations,  and  proportionably  great  dis- 
coveries of  his  love  and  truth :  sometimes,  when 
her  heart  is  enlarged,  I  listen  to  her  with  astonish- 
ment. I  think  no  books  or  ministers  I  ever  met 
with,  have  given  me  such  an  impression  and  under- 


312  NEWTON'S      LETTERS. 

Standing  of  what,  the  Apostle  styles,  '  the  deep 
things  of  God,'  as  I  have,  upon  some  occasions, 
received  from  her  conversation. 

"  We  have  lost  another  of  the  people  here  :  a 
person  of  much  ex|>erience,  eminent  grace,  wisdom, 
and  usefulness.  She  walked  with  God  forty  years. 
She  was  one  of  the  Lord's  poor ;  but  her  poverty 
was  decent,  sanctified,  and  honorable.  She  lived 
respected,  and  her  death  is  considered  as  a  public 
loss.  It  is  a  great  loss  to  me  ;  I  shall  miss  her  ad- 
vice and  example,  by  which  I  have  been  often  edi- 
fied and  animated.  Almost  the  last  words  she  ut- 
tered were  :  *  The  Lord  is  my  portion,  saith  my 
soul.' 

"  My  attendance  upon  the  sick  is  not  always 
equally  comfortable ;  but  could  I  learn  aright,  it 
might  be  equally  instructive.  Some  confirm  to  me 
the  preciousness  of  a  Saviour,  by  the  cheerfulness 
with  which,  through  faith  in  his  name,  they  meet 
the  king  of  terrors.  Others  no  less  confirm  it,  by 
the  terror  and  reluctance  they  discover,  when  they 
find  they  must  die.  For  though  there  are  too 
many  who  sadly  slight  the  blessed  Gospel,  while 
they  are  in  health,  yet,  in  this  place,  most  are  too 
far  enlightened  to  be  quite  thoughtless  about  their 
souls,  in  their  last  illness,  if  they  retain  their  senses. 
Then,  like  the  foolish  virgins,  they  say,  '  Give  us  of 
your  oil !' 

"  Through  the  Lord's  goodness,  several  whom  I 
have  visited  iu  these  circumstances,  have  afforded 


NEWTON'S      LETTERS.  313 

me  a  comfortable  hope.  I  have  seen  a  marvellous 
and  blessed  change  take  place,  in  a  few  days,  in 
their  language,  views,  and  temper.  I  now  visit  a 
young  person,  who  is  cut  short  in  her  nineteenth 
year,  by  a  consumption,  and  who  I  think  cannot 
live  many  days.  I  found  her  very  ignorant  and 
insensible,  and  she  remained  so  a  good  while ;  but 
of  late,  I  hope,  her  heart  is  touched.  She  feels  her 
lost  state  ;  she  seems  to  have  some  right  desires ; 
and  I  cannot  but  think  the  Lord  is  teaching  her, 
and  will  reveal  himself  to  her  before  she  departs. 

"  But  the  scene  is  sometimes  different.     I  saw  a 
young  woman  die  the  last  week.     I  had  been  often 
with  her ;    but  the  night   she   was   removed,   she 
could  only  say,  '  O,  I  cannot  live  !    I  cannot  live  !' 
She   relocated  this  mournful  complaint  as  long  as 
she   could   speak:   for,  as   the   vital   powers  were 
more  oppressed,   her  voice  changed  into   groans ; 
her  groans  grew  fainter  and  fainter ;  and  in  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  she  had  done  speaking, 
she  expired.     Poor  creature  !  said  I  to  myself,  as  I 
stood  by  her  bedside,  if  you  were  a  dutchess,  in 
this  situation,  what  could  the   world  do  for  you 
now  ?     I  thought,  likewise,  how  many  things  are 
there  that  now  give  us  pleasure  or  pain,  and  as- 
sume a  mighty  importance  in  our  view,  which,  in  a 
dying  hour,  will  be  no  more  to  us,  than  the  clouds 
that  fly  unnoticed  over  our  heads  !    Then  the  truth 
of  our  Lord's  declaration  will  be  seen  and  fU,  and 
acknowledged:  *  One  thing  is  needful.'     And  we 
14 


bi4:  NEWTON'S     LETTERS. 

shall  be  ready  to  apply  Grotius's  dying  confession 
to  a  great  part  of  our  lives :  '  Ah  !  I  have  consumed 
my  time  in  laboriously  doing  nothing  !'  " 

How  greatly  does  it  exalt  the  mercy  and  good- 
ness of  the  universal  Parent  of  mankind,  to  per- 
ceive that  his  regard  is  equally  towards  his  chil- 
dren and  people,  whatever  may  be  their  stations 
and  conditions  in  the  world  !  To  the  poor  and  illi- 
terate, as  well  as  to  the  rich  and  learned,  the  gos- 
pel is  preached ;  and  those  of  every  class  who 
become  truly  humble  and  poor  in  spirit,  and  those 
only,  will  cordially  receive  and  rtvjoice  in  it.  Learn- 
ing and  knowledge  are,  indeed,  ornaments  and  im- 
provements of  our  nature ;  and,  as  well  as  riches, 
rank,  and  influence  enable  us  to  enlarge  the  sphere 
of  our  utility  and  beneficence :  but  it  is  not  hence 
to  be  inferred,  either  that  these  qualifications  are  not 
attended  with  peculiar  dangers,  temptations,  and 
inquietudes,  or,  that  the  Father  of  spirits,  who  is 
just  and  equal  in  all  his  ways,  regards  their  pos- 
sessors with  distinguished  marks  of  his  favor.  The 
wisdom  of  Providence,  to  promote  order  and  gov- 
ernment in  the  earth,  has,  indeed,  ordained  a  di- 
versity of  talents  and  conditions  amongst  men ; 
but  he  has  also  graciously  declared,  that  to  the  re- 
ligious and  faithful  improvement,  even  of  the  fewest 
talents,  shall  be  annexed  the  highest  reward  that 
can  be  conferred  upon  us ;  namely,  that  of  "  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant ;  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 


NEWTON'S     LETTERS.  Sib 

An  humble  and  teachable  disposition,  a  pious, 
upright,  and  benevolent  temper  of  mind,  are  in- 
comparably of  greater  worth,  than  all  the  accom- 
plishments and  possessions  of  the  world;  and  they 
are  the  only  attainments  which,  in  all  degrees  of 
knowledge,  and  in  every  station  and  condition  of 
life,  will  procure  the  Divine  favor,  and  advance  us 
to  real  honor  and  happiness. 


SECTION    lY. 

MARGARET     M.     ALTHENS. 

Margaret  M.  Althens,  a  person  of  great  piety 
and  virtue,  was  born  in  the  year  1752.  It  appears 
that,  from  early  life,  she  was  favored  with  impres- 
sions of  a  religious  nature ;  and  that  the  awful 
thoughts  of  heaven,  hell,  death,  and  eternity  en- 
grossed much  of  her  attention.  Her  father  died 
when  she  was  two  and  a  half  years  old.  Her  mo- 
ther being  a  German,  she  was  educated  in  the  lan- 
guage of  that  country,  as  well  as  in  her  native 
tongue ;  and  in  the  fifteenth  year  of  her  age,  she 
was  confirmed  in  the  German  chapel  by  Dr.  Wach- 
sell.  "I  must  acknowledge,"  says  she,  "that  he 
spared  no  pains  to  instruct  me  in  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  religion.  But  the  endeavor  of  man  cannot 
reach  the  heart,  unless  influenced  by  the  Spirit  and 
power  of  God.  Though  I  was  confirmed,  and  ad- 
mitted a  member  of  the  congregation,  I  knew  no 
more  what  a  change  of  heart  meant,  or  an  experi- 
mental knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  than  one  who 
had  never  heard  of  him." 

After  this  period  she  appears,  by  her  Memoirs, 
to  have  experienced  great  trials,  temptations,  and 


MARGARET      M.     ALT  HENS.  817 

mental  distress.  She  became  so  deeply  affected 
with  the  sense  of  her  condition,  that  her  heart  was 
filled  with  despair.  But  it  pleased  the  God  of  love 
and  mercy  to  regard  her  with  compassion,  and  to 
visit  and  strengthen  her  mind,  by  the  gracious 
operations  of  his  Holy  Spirit.  She  was  gradually 
enlightened,  and  enlarged  in  her  religious  views; 
and,  at  length,  obtained  an  establishment  in  the 
paths  of  piety  and  virtue ;  and  experienced  a  most 
consoling  persuasion,  that  her  heavenly  Father 
would  never  forsake  her. 

The  subject  of  this  article,  who  possessed  a  culti- 
vated mind,  was  brought  up  with  pleasing  expecta- 
tions: but  she  participated  in  some  of  those  vicissi- 
tudes which  are  so  common  in  human  life.  For 
about  seven  years  before  her  marriage,  which  took 
place  in  1784,  she  lived  in  the  capacity  of  a  servant. 
This  humble  situation  was,  however,  so  sweetened 
and  sanctified  to  her  by  the  blessing  of  God,  that, 
in  several  parts  of  her  Diary,  she  expresses  great 
thankfulness  to  him,  for  those  dispensations  of  his 
providence,  which,  though  painful  at  the  time,  were 
necessary  to  her  spiritual  improvement.  She  was 
thereby  secluded  from  many  temptations  and  snares, 
which  she  apprehended  might  otherwise  have  re- 
tarded her  progress  in  the  Christian  life.  Her  state 
of  dependence  was,  without  doubt,  less  burdensome 
to  her,  because  her  trust  was  in  the  Lord  whom  she 
served. 

The  character  of  this  excellent  woman,  who  ap- 


318  MARGARET     M.     ALT  HENS. 

pears  to  have  been  happy  in  her  marriage,  is 
strongly  portrayed  in  two  letters  which  she  wrote 
to  her  husband,  and  which  appear  to  have  been 
intended  for  his  perusal,  after  her  decease.  We 
presume  they  will  be  acceptable  to  the  reader. 
They  contain  great  piety,  great  resignation,  and  a 
triumpliant  faith  in  the  mercy  and  acceptance  of 
her  God  and  Redeemer,  They  exhibit  a  lively  and 
animating  example  of  true  conjugal  affection,  and 
Christian  desires  for  the  best  interests  of  a  beloved 
partner,  mingled  with  the  joyful  prospect  of  a  bless- 
ed reunion  of  their  spirits,  in  the  mansions  of  eter- 
nal peace. 

letter  to  her  husband,  no.  i. 

My  Most  Dearly  Beloved  ! 

I  frequently  hear  of  the  death  of  one  and  an- 
other in  child-bed,  which  fills  my  mind  with  appre- 
hensions ;  for  what  am  I  better  than  they,  that  I 
should  expect  more  favor  from  the  Lord  ? 

The  sun  of  prosperity  has  shone  upon  me  for 
five  years,  and  I  have  been  blessed  with  one  of 
the  best  of  husbands;  which  makes  the  thought 
of  the  parting  stroke  most  sensibly  painful  to  me. 
If  it  were  not  for  the  great  realities  of  religio:i,  I 
could  not  give  up  the  beloved  of  my  heart.  All 
the  powers  of  my  soul  are  at  work,  when  I  think 
what  your  feelings  will  be,  in  the  trying  hour  of 
separation.    But,  my  dearest,  grieve  not  as  without 


MAKGAKET     31.     ALT  II  ENS.  319 

hope.  When  a  few  years  more  have  finished  theit 
course,  I  trust,  through  the  merits  of  the  great  Re^ 
deemer,  that  we  shall  have  a  happy  meeting  in  out 
heavenly  Father's  house.  Then,  parting,  sighs,  and 
tears,  shall  be  no  more.  Then,  I  humbly  liope, 
we  shall  be  for  ever  united,  in  singing  the  song  of 
Moses  and  the  L;imb. 

The  Almighty,  who  by  a  chain  of  providences 
brought  us  together,  and  only  lent  me  to  you  for  a 
short  space,  has  an  undoubted  right  to  recall  me 
when  he  pleases.  Very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  to 
me  in  life,  and  in  death  we  shall  not  be  divided. 
You  will  shed  a  tear  to  my  memory,  when  you  re- 
flect on  the  many,  yea,  I  may  say,  very  many  happy 
hours  we  have  spent,  and  the  endearing  conversa- 
tion we  have  had  together.  But  the  subject  is  too 
delicate;  I  must  not  dwell  on  it.  Those  seasons 
are  now  past.  They  are  vanished,  like  the  morning 
cloud,  or  early  dew.  Nothing  now  presents  itself  to 
me,  but  sorrow,  anguish,  weeping  friends,  the  gloomy 
appendages  of  death,  and  an  opening  grave. 

This  is  a  dreary  prospect ;  but,  blessed  be  God, 
here  it  ends.  Beyond  the  grave,  the  scenes  are 
bright  and  happy.  My  reconciled  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  will  receive  me,  place  a  crown  of  glory  upon 
my  head,  and  fix  my  abode  for  ever  among  the 
sons  of  light.  Angels  wait  their  commission  to 
conduct  me  to  the  New  Jerusalem  above ;  when, 
with  a  golden  harp,  and  a  palm  of  victory,  I  shall 
shine  a  monument  of  mercy. 


320  MAKGAKET     M.     ALTHENS. 

There  shall  I  wait  the  happy  period  of  your 
arrival.  Let  this  consideration  restrain  your  tears: 
your  sincerely  affectionate  wife  is  not  dead,  but 
sleepeth.  You  may  commit  my  body  to  the 
ground,  in  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  joyful 
resurrection.  When  you  are  performing  the  last 
kind  offices  of  affection,  I  shall  be  rejoicing  before 
the  throne  of  God,  drinking  of  the  rivers  of  pleas- 
ure that  are  at  his  right  hand. 

If  I  should  leave  a  helpless  infant,  you  will  take 
care  of  it,  and  let  it  be  brought  up  with  the  rest, 
in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  I  am 
not  solicitous  to  have  my  children  great ;  but  it  is 
my  earnest  wish  and  prayer,  that  they  may  be 
good.  My  beloved,  press  forward  ;  a  glorious  prize 
awaits  you.  Be  faithful  unto  death,  and  you  shall 
obtain  it.  If  you  see  me  in  my  coffin,  rejoice  over 
me,  and  say:  What  was  mortal,  the  worms  shall 
destroy ;  but  her  soul,  arrayed  in  the  robe  of  the 
Redeemer's  righteousness,  lives,  to  die  no  more. 
Death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory.  We  fall,  we 
rise,  we  reign ! 

May  the  God  of  my  youth,  the  protector  of  my 
advancing  years,  and  the  support  of  my  now  de- 
clining days,  keep  you  under  the  shadow  of  his 
almighty  wings!  May  he  be  your  guard  and 
guide  through  life,  your  comfort  in  the  hour  of 
dissolution,  and  your  portion  and  happiness  through 
the  ages  of  eternity ! 

Your  affectionate  wife,  in  life  and  death, 

M.  M.  A. 


MARGARET     il.     ALT  II  ENS.  321 


letter  to  her  husband,  no.  ii. 

My  Most  Dearly  Beloved! 

When  you  are  reading  these  lines,  there  will 
be  nothing  left  of  me  but  a  cold  lump  of  clay.  I 
bless  God  for  having  heard  and  answered  my 
prayer,  for,  you  know,  I  have  often  expressed  a 
desire  that  ray  immortal  spirit  might  take  its  flight 
before  yours.  Long  may  you  live,  for  the  sake  of 
your  dear  family,  to  bring  them  up  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord !  Let  me  entreat  you  not  to  sorrow  as 
one  without  hope ;  for  be  assured  that  I  am  happy. 
I  know  that  the  enormous  account  of  my  sins  is 
blotted  out,  by  the  precious  blood  of  my  crucified 
Redeemer;  who  came  into  the  world  to  call,  not 
the  righteous,  but  such  sinners  as  I  am,  to  repent- 
ance: and  he  has  declared,  that  where  he  is,  his 
people  shall  also  be.  So  that  I  am  only  trans^ 
planted  from  the  church  militant,  into  the  clnirch 
triumphant,  to  join  with  that  general  assembly,  in 
praising  the  riches  of  redeeming  grace  and  dying 
love. 

I  hope  you  have  no  doubt  of  the  sincerity  of  my 
affection  to  you.  Heaven  is  my  witness,  that  your 
temporal  and  spiritual  welfare  lias  been  tlie  sub- 
ject of  my  incessant  prayers;  and,  I  trust,  they 
will  be  answered,  when  I  am  sleeping  in  the  dust. 
If  the  disembodied  spirits  may  be  favored  with  the 
knowledge  of  things  done  below,  and  still  interested 
U* 


322  MARGARET     M.     ALTHENS. 

in  the  concernments  of  their  dear  relatives,  as  I  have 
some  reason  to  think  they  will ; — how  gladly  shall  I 
accept  the  pleasing  employ,  of  attending  you  as  an 
invisible  guardian  angel,  to  warn  you  of  dangers, 
and  lend  you  aid  in  every  season  of  distress!  My 
first  care  should  be,  to  wipe  the  tears  from  your 
beloved  cheek ;  to  soothe  the  wound  my  removal 
has  made ;  and  to  help  you  to  triumph  over  your 
loss,  with  the  fortitude  and  resignation  becoming 
you,  as  a  child  of  God. 

Time  is  short.  In  a  few  revolving  years,  at  most, 
your  silver  cord  of  life  will  be  loosed,  and  your 
golden  bowl  broken.  Then,  when  every  earthly 
comfort  shall  fade,  you  will  know  the  worth  of  re- 
demption, by  the  sufferings  and  death  of  the  Son 
of  God.  O,  that  when  flesh  and  heart  shall  fail, 
you  may  find  him  your  strength  and  portion !  If 
so,  what  a  joyful  meeting  shall  we  have,  to  part  no 
more ;  in  his  presence,  where  there  is  fulness  of 
joy,  and  where  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  away ! 

I  thank  you  for  all  the  kindness  you  have  shown 
to  me,  a  most  unworthy  creature.  You  have  in- 
deed been  a  tender  and  affectionate  husband  to  me. 
In  you  I  have  found  a  bosom  friend ;  and  my  cares 
have  been  reposed  in  your  beloved  breast.  My 
earthly  happiness  has  been  too  great.  I  acquiesce. 
He  who  gave  me  life  has  a  right  to  take  it.  I  go 
to  permanent  happiness,  without  alloy,  where  sor- 
row can  find  no  entrance. 

And  now,  vrith  all  the  solemn  appendages  of 


MARGARET     M.     ALTHENS.  323 

death  in  my  view  ;  the  gloomy  grave,  and  an  eter- 
nal world,  into  which  I  am  about  to  enter  ;  I  \% 
up  my  hands  in  supplication  for  you.  May  the 
blessings  of  the  eternal  Jehovah  rest  upon  you ! 
May  his  presence  be  your  light  and  your  strength, 
to  direct  and  support  you,  through  all  the  changes 
of  this  mortal  life  !  And  when  you  are  bidding 
adieu  to  all  in  this  world,  may  his  almighty  arm  be 
your  defence ;  and  may  his  heavenly  messengers 
convey  your  departing  spirit  to  the  unsullied  re- 
gions of  eternal  peace  !  Adieu !  till  we  meet  to 
part  no  more.     The  Lord  bless  you  ! 

Your  affectionate  wife, 

M.  M.  A. 

In  the  last  illness  of  this  truly  religious  person, 
she  was  favored  with  an  entire  trust  in  God,  and 
with  an  earnest  longing  for  that  happy  state,  which 
she  believed  was  prepared  for  her.  At  one  time 
she  says  in  her  Diary  :  "  I  hope  I  can  adopt  the 
language  of  Dr.  Young  : — 

" '  Or  life,  or  death,  is  equal ;  neither  weighs. 
All  weight  in  this — 0  !  let  me  live  to  thee.'  " 

At  another  time  she  thus  expresses  herself:  "  1 
am  still  under  the  care  of  a  physician  ;  but  he  gives 
me  no  hope.  Indeed  it  would  be  both  cruel  and 
in  vain  to  flatter  me  now ;  for  my  own  weakness 
informs  me,  that  I  am  going  apace.  I  bless  my 
God,  I  can  now  say,  Thy  will  be  done.     I  can  give 


324  MARGARET     M.     ALTHENS. 

up  my  dear  husband  and  children,  with  every 
earthly  connection,  into  his  hands.  He  will  take 
care  of  them.  My  husband's  trial  is  great.  I  feel 
more  for  him  than  for  myself.  But  heaven  will 
make  amends  for  all.  O,  how  I  pant  and  thirst  for 
the  happy  hour,  when  my  Father  will  send  his  an- 
gels to  convey  my  spirit  to  rest !" 

She  obtained  her  long  desired  release  from  sin 
and  sorrow,  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1789,  and 
at  the  age  of  thirty-seven  years,  within  a  few  days. 


SECTION    V. 

ZIMMERMAN. 

The  following  tribute  to  the  memory  of  a  be- 
loved daughter,  was  written  by  Doctor  Zimmer- 
man ;  and  marks  the  piety  of  his  own  mind,  as 
well  as  the  influence  of  religion  on  the  amiable 
subject  of  his  sorrow  : 

"  May  I  be  permitted  here  to  give  a  shoit 
account  of  a  young  person,  whose  memory  I  am 
extremely  anxious  to  preserve  ?  The  world  was 
unacquainted  with  her  excellence  :  she  was  known 
to  those  only  whom  she  has  left  behind  to  bewail 
her  loss.  Iler  sole  pleasures  were  those  which 
a  retired  and  virtuous  life  affords.  She  was  act- 
ive, invariably  mild,  and  always  compassionate  to 
the  miseries  of  others.  Diffident  of  her  own 
powers,  she  relied  with  perfect  confidence  on  the 
goodness  of  God,  and  listened  attentively  to  the 
precepts  of  a  fond  parent.  Taught  by  my  ex- 
perience, submitting  to  my  judgment,  she  en- 
tertained for  me  the  most  ardent  affection ;  and 
convinced  me,  not  by  professions,  but  by  actions, 
of  her  sincerity.  Willingly  would  I  have  resigned 
my  life  to  have  saved  hers ;   and  I  am  satisfied 


326  ZIMMEEMAN. 

that  she  would  cheerfully  have  given  up  her  own, 
to  preserve  mine.  One  of  my  greatest  pleasures 
was,  to  please  her;  and  my  endeavors  for  that 
purpose  were  most  gratefully  returned.  She  gave 
many  proofs  of  this  kind  and  amiable  temper : 
and  I  shall  mention  one,  which,  though  small  in 
itself,  was  peculiarly  pleasing  to  me.  She  frequently 
presented  me  with  a  rose,  which  she  knew  was  my 
favorite  flower.  I  ever  received  it  from  her  hand 
with  delight,  and  preserved  it  as  a  rich  treasure. 

"  From  her  earliest  infancy,  she  had  been  the 
submissive  victim  of  ill  health.  But  though  of  a 
weak  frame  of  body,  and  very  deeply  afflicted,  she 
bore  her  suflferings  with  steady  fortitude,  and  pious 
resignation  to  the  dispensation  of  Heaven.  Her 
appetite  was  almost  gone  when  we  left  Switzerland ; 
a  residence  which,  though  peculiarly  endeared  to 
her,  she  quitted  with  her  usual  sweetness  of  tem- 
per, and  without  discovering  the  smallest  regret. 

"  Soon  after  our  arrival  at  Hanover,  she  fell 
into  a  deep  decline,  which  at  length  terminated  in 
a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  of  a  very  uncommon 
nature,  that  soon  deprived  me  of  the  comfort  of 
this  beloved  child.  From  the  knowledge  I  had  of 
her  constitution,  I  apprehended  that  the  disorder 
would  prove  mortal.  How  frequently,  during  that 
fatal  day,  did  my  wounded,  bleeding  heart,  bend 
me  on  my  knees  before  God,  to  supplicate  for  her 
recovery !  But  I  concealed  my  feelmgs  from  her 
observation. 


Z  I  31  M  E  R  if  A  N  .  327 

"Although  sensible  of  her  danger,  she  never 
discovered  the  least  appreliension.  Smiles  played 
around  her  pallid  cheeks,  whenever  I  entered  or 
quitted  the  room.  Though  worn  down  by  the 
fatal  distemper,  a  prey  to  the  most  corroding  sor- 
rows, the  sharpest  and  most  afflicting  pains,  she 
made  no  complaint.  She  mildly  answered  all  my 
questions,  by  some  short  sentence,  without  enter- 
ing into  any  details.  Her  decay  and  impending  dis- 
solution became  obvious  to  the  eye ;  but  to  the 
last  moment  of  her  life,  her  countenance  preserved 
a  serenity  correspondent  to  the  purity  of  her  mind, 
and  the  tender  emotions  of  her  heart.  Thus  I  be- 
held my  dear,  my  only  daughter,  at  the  age  of  five- 
and-twenty,  after  a  tedious  suffering  of  nine  long 
months,  expire  in  my  arms. 

"  During  the  short  time  we  passed  at  Hanover, 
where  she  was  much  respected  and  beloved,  she 
amused  herself  by  composing  several  religious 
pieces,  which  were  afterwards  found  among  her 
papers ;  and  in  which  she  implores  death  to  afford 
her  a  speedy  relief  from  her  pains.  About  the 
same  period,  she  wrote  also  many  letters,  which 
were  always  affecting,  and  frequently  sublime. 
They  were  filled  with  expressions  of  the  same  de- 
sire, speedily  to  unite  her  soul  with  the  Author  of 
her  being.  The  last  words  that  my  dear,  my  ex- 
cellent child  uttered,  amidst  the  most  painful  ago- 
nies,  were  these:  'To-day  I  shall  taste  the  joys 
of  heaven !' " 


SECTION-    YI 

JAMES     HAY     BEATTIE. 

James  Hay  Beattie,  son  of  Dr.  James  Beattie, 
professor  of  moral  philosophy  and  logic  in  the  uni- 
versity of  Aberdeen,  was  born  in  the  year  1768. 
He  died  early  in  life  at  the  age  of  twenty-two;  but 
wisdom,  not  years,  is  the  grey  hair  to  man,  and  un- 
Sj^otted  life  is  old  age. 

This  young  man  possessed  a  fine  genius,  great 
vigor  of  understanding,  and  a  very  uncommon  por- 
tion of  learning  and  knowledge  :  but  the  rectitude 
of  heart,  and  genuine  piety,  by  which  he  was  so 
eminently  distinguished,  are  the  qualities  which 
render  him  a  proper  subject  for  these  memoirs. 

We  shall  select  a  few  traits  of  the  life  and  char- 
acter of  this  excellent  youth,  as  proofs  of  his  un- 
common merit,  and  of  the  power  of  religion  on  his 
mind. 

His  father  never  had  occasion  to  reprove  him 
above  three  or  four  times,  during  the  whole  of  his 
life :  bodily  chastisement  he  never  experienced  at 
all.  It  would  indeed  have  been  most  unreasonable 
to  apply  this  mode  of  discipline  to  one  whose  su- 
preme concern  it  ever  was  to  know  his  duty,  and 


JAMES      HAY      BEATTIE.  329 

to  do  it.  The  first  rules  of  morality  which  his  fa- 
ther taught  him,  were,  to  speak  truth,  and  keep  a 
secret ;  and  it  never  appeared  that  in  a  single  in- 
stance, he  transgressed  either.  His  whole  beha- 
vior, at  school  and  college,  was  not  only  irreproach- 
able, but  exemplary. 

In  the  year  1V87,  the  king,  upon  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  university  of  Marischal  college, 
was  pleased  to  appoint  him  assistant  professor  of 
moral  philosophy  and  logic.  His  age  was  then  not 
quite  nineteen  ;  but  to  the  gentlemen  of  the  uni- 
versity his  character  was  so  well  known,  that  they 
most  readily,  as  well  as  unanimously,  concurred  in 
the  recommendation.  His  steadiness,  good-nature, 
and  self-command,  secured  his  authority  as  a 
teacher  :  and  by  his  presence  of  mind,  and  ready 
recollection,  he  satisfied  his  audience  that,  though 
young,  he  was  abundantly  qualified  to  instruct 
them. 

Piety  and  meekness  were  striking  features  in  his 
character,  habitual  to  him  in  infancy,  and  through 
life.  The  Christian  religion  and  its  evidences  he 
had  studied  with  indefatigable  application ;  and 
the  consequence  was  such  as  may  always  be  ex- 
pected in  like  cases,  where  the  inquirer  has  candor 
and  sense :  no  person  could  love  his  religion  more 
than  he  did,  or  believe  in  it  with  fuller  assurance 
of  faith.  But  in  his  behaviour  there  was  no  aus- 
terity or  singularity.  The  effect  of  religion  upon 
his  mind  was,  to  make  him  cheerful,  considerate, 


330  JAMES     HAY     BEATTIE. 

benevolent,  intrepid,  humble,  and  happy.  He 
loved  the  whole  human  race  ;  he  bore  a  j^articular 
love  to  Christians ;  and  he  wished  all  parties  to 
exercise  Christian  charity  tow^ards  each  other.  He 
wished  to  be,  and  to  be  considered,  a  Christian  ; 
a  title  which  he  thought  infinitely  more  honorable 
than  any  other. 

The  purity  and  the  delicacy  of  his  mind  were 
great ;  and  in  one  so  young,  were  truly  admirable, 
and  worthy  of  imitation.  He  was  aware  of 
the  danger  of  admitting  indelicate  or  improper 
thoughts  into  his  mind  ;  for  he  knew  that  associa- 
tions of  ideas,  disapproved  both  by  reason  as  in- 
congruous, and  by  conscience  as  immoral,  might  in 
a  moment  be  formed,  in  consequence  of  inadver- 
tence, even  when  there  was  no  settled  propensity 
to  evil.  His  attention  was  continually  awake  to 
learn,  although  from  the  slightest  hint,  or  most 
trivial  circumstance,  what  might  be  useful  in  puri- 
fying his  mind,  regulating  his  conduct,  or  improv- 
ing his  understanding. 

He  was  almost  constantly  occupied  in  discharg- 
ing the  duties  of  his  office,  in  performing  acts  of 
kindness,  or  in  planning  works  of  literature  for  the 
benefit  of  mankind ;  and  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe,  that  if  his  life  had  been  lengthened,  he 
would  have  been  eminently  useful  in  the  world. 
But  it  pleased  Divine  Providence  to  permit  this 
promising  youth  to  be  cut  down  by  disease,  in  the 
morning   of  life.     When  his   disorder  had   made 


JAMES      UAY      BEATTIE.  331 

great  progress,  and  he  saw  death  approaching,  he 
met  it  with  his  usual  calmness  and  resignation. 
One  evening,  while  he  was  expecting  the  physician, 
who  had  been  sent  for  in  the  belief  that  he  was 
just  going  to  expire,  he  sweetly  said :  "  How  plea- 
sant a  medicine  is  Christianity  !" 

He  sometimes  endeavored   to   reconcile  his  fa- 
ther's mind  to  the  thought  of  parting  with  him ; 
but,  for  fear  of  giving  him  pain,  spoke  seldom  and 
sparingly  on  that  subject.     "  One  day,"    says  his 
father,  "  when  I  was  sitting  by  him,  he  began  to 
speak  in  very  affectionate  terms,  as  he  often  had 
done,  of  what  he  called  my  goodness  to  him.     I 
begged  him  to  drop  that  subject ;    and  was  pro- 
ceeding to  tell  him,  that  I  had  never  done  any- 
thing for  him  but  what  my  duty  required,  and  in- 
clination prompted  ;  and  that,  for  the  little  I  had 
done,  his  filial  piety  and  other  virtues  were  to  me 
more  than  a  sufficient  recompense,— when  he  inter- 
rupted  mc,   (which    he  was  not  apt  to   do,)   and, 
starting  up,  with   inexpressible  fervor  and   solem- 
nity,  implored  the  blessing  of  God  upon  me.     His 
look  at  that  moment,  though  I  shall  never  forget 
it,  I  can  describe  in  no  other  way  than  by  saying, 
that  it  seemed  to  have  in  it  something  more  than 
human,  and  what  I  may  not  very  improperly,  per- 
haps,  call    angehc.      Seeing   me   agitated,  he    ex- 
pressed concern  for  what  he  had  done — and  said 
that  whatever  might  be  in  his  mind,  he  would  not 
any  more   put   my  feelings   to   so   severe   a  trial 


332  JAMES     HAY     BEATTIE. 

Sometimes,  however,  warm  sentiments  of  gratitude 
would  break  from  him  :  and  those  were  the  only- 
occasions  on  which,  during  the  whole  course  of  his 
illness,  he  was  observed  to  shed  tears,  till  the  day 
before  his  death ;  when  he  desired  to  see  his 
brother,  gave  him  his  blessing,  wept  over  him,  and 
bid  him  farewell." 

The  preceding  traits  of  the  life  and  virtues  of 
this  amiable  and  accomplished  youth,  are  taken 
from  an  account  of  his  life  and  character,  written 
and  published  by  his  very  worthy  father.  Dr. 
James  Beattie ;  to  which  publication  the  compiler 
refers  the  reader  for  further  particulars.  He  will 
find  it  a  well-written,  instructive,  and  most  inter- 
esting detail  of  the  sentiments  and  conduct  of  this 
excellent  young  man. 

We  cannot  better  close  this  memoir,  than  by 
transcribing  the  pious  and  pathetic  lines  of  his 
father,  at  the  conclusion  of  that  work :  "  I  have 
lost  the  pleasantest,  and,  for  the  last  four  or  five 
years  of  his  short  life,  one  of  the  most  instructive 
companions,  that  ever  man  was  delighted  with. 
But,  '  the  Lord  gave  ;  the  Lord  hath  taken  away : 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord.' — I  adore  the 
Author  of  all  Good,  who  gave  him  grace  to  lead 
such  a  life,  and  die  such  a  death,  as  makes  it  impos- 
sible for  a  Christian  to  doubt  of  his  having  entered 
upon  the  inheritance  of  a  happy  immortality." 


SECTION"    VII. 
ELIZABETH     SMITH. 

This  amiable  and  excellent  person  was  born  at 
Burnhall  in  the  county  of  Durham,  in  the  year 
1776,  at  which  place  her  parents  then  resided,  in 
affluent  circumstances,  though  afterwards  they  ex- 
perienced a  reverse  of  fortune.  At  a  very  early 
age,  she  discovered  that  love  of  reading,  and  that 
close  application  to  whatever  she  engaged  in, 
which  marked  her  character  through  life.  She  was 
accustomed,  when  only  three  years  old,  to  leave  an 
elder  brother  and  younger  sister  to  play  and  amuse 
themselves,  whilst  she  eagerly  seized  on  such  books 
as  a  nursery  library  commonly  affords,  and  made 
herself  mistress  of  their  contents.  At  four  years 
of  age,  she  read  extremely  well ;  and,  from  the 
judicious  account  which  her  mother  gives  of  her, 
it  appears,  that  Avhatever  she  did  was  well  done^ 
and  with  an  appai'ent  consideration  far  beyond  her 
years. 

As  she  grew  up,  she  was  remarkable  for  a  thirst 
of  knowledge,  for  regularity,  and  observation. 
Her  person  and  manners  were  highly  pleasing,  and 
her  disposition  was  mild  and  benevolent.     She  had 


334  ELIZABETH     SMITH. 

a  pensive  softness  of  countenance,  that  indicated 
deep  reflection  ;  but  her  extreme  timidity  con- 
cealed, for  a  time,  the  very  extraordinary  talents 
which  she  possessed.  She  was  instructed,  and 
made  great  progress  in  the  accomplishments  which 
are  usually  taught  to  females  in  the  polished  circles 
of  life.  But  she  was  emmently  distinguished  for  a 
love  of  learning,  a  facility  in  acquiring  languages, 
and  a  desire  to  improve  her  mind.  With  scarcely 
any  assistance,  she  taught  herself  the  French, 
Italian,  Spanish,  German,  Latin,  Greek,  and  He- 
brew languages :  and  she  had  no  inconsiderable 
knowledge  of  Arabic  and  Persic.  She  was  well 
acquainted  with  geometry,  algebra,  and  other 
branches  of  the  mathematics. 

"  With  all  these  acquirements,"  says  her  excel- 
lent biographer,  "  she  was  perfectly  feminine  in  her 
disposition ;  elegant,  modest,  gentle,  and  afiection- 
ate  :  nothing  was  neglected  which  a  woman  ought 
to  know ;  no  duty  was  omitted,  which  her  situa- 
tion in  life  required  her  to  perform.  But  the  part 
of  her  character  on  which,"  continues  her  biog- 
rapher, "  I  dwell  with  the  greatest  satisfaction,  is 
that  exalted  piety,  which  seemed  always  to  raise 
her  above  this  world  ;  and  taught  her,  at  sixteen 
years  of  age,  to  resign  its  riches  and  its  pleasures, 
almost  without  regret,  and  to  support  with  dignity 
a  very  unexpected  change  of  situation. 

"  For  some  years  before  her  death,  the  Holy 
Scripture  was  her  principal  study ;  and  she  trans- 


ELIZABETH     SMITH.  335 

lated  from  the  Hebrew  the  whole  book  of  Job, 
ttc,  &c.  The  benefit  which  she  herself  derived 
from  these  studies,  must  be  evident  to  those  who 
witnessed  the  patience  and  resignation  with  which 
she  supported  a  long  and  painful  illness,  the  sweet 
attention  which  she  always  showed  to  the  feelings 
of  her  parents  and  friends,  and  the  heavenly  com- 
posure with  which  she  looked  forward  to  the  awful 
change,  which  has  now  removed  her  to  a  world 
'  where,'  as  one  of  her  friends  observes,  '  her  gen- 
tle, pure,  and  enlightened  spirit  will  find  itself 
more  at  home,  than  in  this  land  of  shadows.'  " 

This  pious  and  admirable  young  person,  was  not 
destined  by  Divine  Providence  to  continue  long  on 
this  stage  of  probation  and  conflict.  In  the  sum- 
mer of  1805,  she  caught  a  cold,  which,  though  at 
first  it  seemed  not  to  be  of  .much  consequence,  gra- 
dually impaired  her  constitution ;  so  that,  in  little 
more  than  a  year  from  the  commencement  of  the 
disorder,  her  valuable  life  was  terminated.  She 
finished  her  course  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  her  a^^e. 

After  her  death,  there  was  found  amongst  her 
manuscripts,  a  number  of  reflections  on  a  variety 
of  important  subjects,  moral  and  religious.  We 
shall  select  a  few  of  these,  and  present  them  to  the 
reader,  as  interesting  specimens  of  the  goodness 
both  of  her  head  and  her  heart : 

"  Pleasure  is  a  rose  near  which  there  ever  grows 
the  thorn  of  evil.  It  is  wisdom's  work  so  carefully 
to  cull  the  rose,  as  to  avoid  the  thorn,  and  let  its 


336  ELIZABETHSMITH, 

rich  perfume  exhale  to  heaven  in  grateful  adoration 
of  Him  who  gave  the  rose  to  blow. 

"The  Christian  life  may  be  compared  to  a  mag- 
nificent column,  whose  summit  always  points  to 
heaven.  The  innocent  and  therefore  real  pleasures 
of  this  world  are  the  ornaments  on  the  pedestal ; 
very  beautiful  and  highly  to  be  enjoyed,  when  the 
eye  is  near ;  but  which  should  not  too  long,  or  too 
frequently  detain  us  from  that  just  distance,  where 
we  can  contemplate  the  whole  column,  and  where 
the  ornaments  on  its  base  disappear. 

"How  light  are  all  the  troubles  of  this  world,  to 
those  who  value  everything  it  contains,  according 
to  its  real  worth  !  They  may  appear  insensible,  to 
those  who  reckon  by  a  diiferent  standard ;  but  they 
can  bear  even  this  imputation,  for  they  know  the 
value  of  human  applause.  How  happy  should  we 
be,  if  we  could  always /ee^,  as  we  sometimes  think! 
*'  No  event  which  I  thought  unfortunate  has  ever 
happened  to  me,  but  I  have  been  convinced,  at 
some  time  or  other,  that  it  was  not  a  misfortune, 
but  a  blessing.  I  can  never  then  in  reason  com- 
plain of  anything  that  happens,  because  I  am  per- 
suaded it  is  permitted  for  some  good  purpose. 

"An  hour  well  spent  condemns  a  life.  When 
we  reflect  on  the  sum  of  improvement  and  delight 
gained  in  that  single  hour,  how  do  the  multitude 
of  hours  already  past,  rise  up  and  say,  what  good 
lias  marked  us?  Wouldst  thou  know  the  true 
worth  of  time,  employ  one,  hourP 


ELIZABETH      SMITH. 


337 


The  following  lines,  contained  in  a  little  pocket- 
book,  and  written  by  her  in  the  year  1798,  when 
she  had  attained  the  age  of  twenty-one  years,  are 
peculiarly  interesting.  They  indicate  the  deep 
sense  which  she  had  of  the  value  and  importance 
of  religion : 

"Being  now  arrived  at  what  is  called  years  of 
discretion,  and  looking  back  on  my  past  life  with 
shame  and  confusion,  when  I  recollect  the  many 
advantages  I  have  had,  and  the  bad  use  I  have 
made  of  them,  the  hours  I  have  squandered,  and 
the  opportunities  of  improvement  I  have  neglected; 
when  I  imagine  what,  with  those  advantages,  I 
ought  to  be,  and  find  myself  what  I  am:— I  am 
resolved  to  endeavor  to  be  more  careful,  for  the 
future,  if  the  future  be  granted  me ;  to  try  to  make 
amends  for  past  negligence,  by  employing  every 
moment  I  can  command,  to  some  good  purpose ;  to 
endeavor  to  acquire  all  the  little  knowledge  that 
human  nature  is  capable  of  on  earth ;  but  to  let  the 
word  of  God  be  my  chief  study,  and  all  others  sub- 
servient to  it ;  to  model  myself  as  far  as  I  am  able, 
according  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ;  to  be  content 
while  my  trial  lasts,  and  when  it  is  finished,  to  re- 
joice, trusting  in  the  merits  of  my  Redeemer.  I  have 
written  these  resolutions, tc  stand  as  awitness  against 
me,  in  case  I  should  be  inclined  to  forget  them,  and  to 
return  to  my  former  insolence  and  thoughtlessness, 
because  I  have  found  the  inutility  of  mental  determi- 
nations. May  God  grant  me  strength  to  keep  them  !'• 
15 


638  ELIZABETH      SMITH. 

These  pious  and  holy  resolutions,  were,  we  pre- 
sume, succeeded  by  great  watchfulness  against 
temptations,  and  by  devout  and  earnest  endeavors 
to  secure  the  momentous  and  happy  objects  which 
she  had  in  view.  Her  trials  and  conflicts  are  all 
over ;  and  she  is  gone  to  receive,  through  Divine 
grace,  the  reward  of  her  virtues.  But  her  example 
still  remains ;  and  to  those  by  whom  it  is  duly  con- 
templated, it  may  prove  a  powerful  incentive,  to 
imitate  her  goodness,  and  to  aspire  after  that  fu- 
ture blessedness,  which  animated  her  hopes  and 
exertions. 


SECTION    VIII. 
ELIZABKTH     CARTKPw. 

Elizabeth  Carter,  a  person  highly  estimablo 
for  her  learning,  talents,  and  virtues,  was  born  at 
Deal,  in  the  year  1717.  Her  father.  Dr.  Nicholas 
Carter,  a  clergyman  in  Kent,  was  a  man  of  great 
learning,  and  of  exemplary  character.  He  gave  all 
his  children,  daughters  as  well  as  sons,  a  learned 
education.  But  the  infancy  and  early  youth  of 
Elizabeth  afforded  no  promise  of  the  attainments 
which  she  afterwards  acquired.  Yet  even  then,  it 
was  her  most  eager  desire  to  be  a  scholar,  though 
nature  seemed  to  forbid  it. 

She  gained  the  rudiments  of  knowledge  with 
great  labor  and  difficulty;  and  her  perseverance 
was  put  to  a  most  severe  trial.  This  ardent  thirst 
after  knowledge,  was,  however,  at  length  crowned 
with  complete  success;  and  her  acquirements  be- 
came, even  very  early  in  life,  such  as  are  rarely  met 
with.  Her  proficiency  in  languages  was  very  ex- 
traordhiary,  for  her  age  and  sex.  Besides  Latm, 
Greek,  and  Hebrew,  she  became  possessed  of  the 
French,  Italian,  Spanish,  and  German  tongues;  the 
hist  three  of  which  she  attained  without  a  master. 


S40  ELIZABETH      CARTER. 

Poetry  was  one  of  her  early  tastes;  and  in  1738 
she  published  a  small  collection  of  Poems,  written 
before  she  was  twenty  years  of  age.  The  sciences 
were  not  neglected  by  her.  She  paid  great  atten- 
tion to  Astronomy ;  which  she  thought  a  noble 
study,  and  in  which  she  made  a  very  considerable 
progress.  She  gained  such  a  knowledge  of  history, 
both  ancient  and  modern,  as  is  rarely  acquired ; 
and  her  taste  for  that  engaging,  as  well  as  useful 
branch  of  science,  she  never  lost.  Yet,  amidst  her 
various  applications  and  employments,  she  found 
time  to  work  a  great  deal  with  her  needle,  not 
only  for  herself,  but  also  for  the  family.  She  was 
not  inattentive  to  domestic  economy,  and  the  occu- 
pations that  belong  to  the  female  character. 

"But  among  her  studies,  there  was  one  which 
she  never  neglected;  one  which  was  always  dear 
to  her,  from  her  earliest  in&.ncy  to  the  latest  period 
of  her  life,  and  in  which  she  made  a  continual  im- 
provement. This  was  that  of  Religion,  w^iich  wa? 
her  constant  care,  and  greatest  delight.  Her  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Bible,  some  part  of  which  she 
never  failed  to  read  every  day,  was  as  complete,  as 
her  behef  in  it  was  sincere.  And  no  person  ever 
endeavored  more,  and  few  with  greater  success,  to 
regulate  the  whole  of  their  conduct  by  that  unerr- 
ing guide.  Her  piety  was  indeed  the  very  piety 
of  the  Gospel,  shown  not  by  enthusiasm,  or  depre- 
ciating that  of  others;  but  by  a  calm,  rational,  and 
constant  devotion,  and  the  most  unwearied  atten- 


E  L  I  Z  A  B  E  T  II      C  A  11  T  E  K  .  P  11 

tion  to  acquire  the  temper,  and  practise  the  duties 
of  a  Christian  life.  She  never  thanked  God,  like 
the  proud  Pharisee,  that  she  was  not  like  others ; 
but  rather,  like  the  Publican,  besought  him  to  be 
merciful  to  her,  a  sinner. 

"  She  admired,  and  warmly  felt,  the  beauties  of 
works  of  genius  and  fancy ;  but  in  her  estimation, 
the  one  thing  needful^  duty  to  God  and  man,  in  its 
highest  sense,  superseded  all  the  rest.  Hence  the 
works  of  art,  and  the  beauties  of  nature,  equally 
turned  her  thoughts  in  gratitude  to  Him,  who  has 
granted  us  faculties  and  senses  capable  of  giving 
and  receiving  so  much  innocent  pleasure." 

This  excellent  woman  had  a  heart  finely  adapted 
to  friendship ;  and  she  possessed  many  friends  of  dis- 
tinguished character,  who  proved  the  instruments 
of  much  enjoyment  to  her.  In  particular,  she  formed 
an  intimate  connection  with  the  accomplished  Cath- 
erine Talbot,  who  was  niece  to  the  lord  chancellor 
Talbot,  and  who  possessed  considerable  genius,  and 
a  most  amiable  disposition.  This  was  an  important 
event  in  the  life  of  EHzabeth  Carter.  The  hitimacy 
of  their  friendship,  the  interesting  nature  of  their 
correspondence,  and  the  exalted  piety  of  both,  ren- 
dered this  connection  the  principal  ingredient  of 
their  mutual  happiness.  It  procured  also  the  friend- 
ship of  Dr.  Seeker,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  with 
whom  her  beloved  Catherine  resided. 

Under  these  favorable  circumstances,  she  extend- 
ed her  knowledge  of  the  world,  cherished  her  j^ro- 


342  ELIZABETH      CARTER. 

found  learning,  and  exercised  her  pious  views  and 
sentiments.  It  was  by  the  desire  of  this  valued 
female  friend,  enforced  by  the  bishop  of  Oxford, 
that  she  undertook  the  work,  by  which  her  literary 
reputation  has  been  most  known  abroad,-  and  will 
be  long  remembered  by  scholars  at  home,  her  trans- 
lation of  Epictetus. 

She  was,  for  many  years,  happy  in  her  union  and 
intercourse  with  a  woman  so  very  dear  to  her :  and 
when  the  time  of  their  separation  came,  it  was,  as 
may  be  suj^posed,  an  event  deeply  affecting  to  her 
susceptible  mind.  From  a  letter  which  she  wrote, 
on  this  melancholy  occasion,  we  extract  the  follow 
ing  passages ;  "  Never  surely  was  there  a  more  per- 
fect pattern  of  evangelical  goodness,  decorated  by 
all  the  ornaments  of  a  highly  improved  understand- 
ing ;  and  recommended  by  a  sweetness  of  temper, 
and  an  elegance  and  politeness  of  manners  of  a  pe- 
culiar and  more  engaging  kind,  in  any  other  charac- 
ter I  ever  knew.  Little,  alas!  infinitely  too  little 
have  I  yet  profited  by  the  blessing  of  such  an  ex- 
ample. God  grant  that  her  memory,  which  I  hope 
will  ever  survive  in  my  heart,  may  produce  a  hap- 
pier effect.  Adieu,  my  dear  friend.  God  bless 
you ;  and  conduct  us  both  to  that  happy  assembly, 
where  the  spirits  of  the  just  shall  dread  no  future 
separation !  And  may  we  both  remember  that 
awful  truth,  that  we  can  hope  to  die  the  death  of 
the  righteous  only  by  resembling  their  lives." 

The  subject  of  this  memoir  survived  her  lament- 


ELIZABETH      CARTER.  343 

ed  friend  many  years :  and  it  appears  that  her  lamp 
continued  to  burn  brightly,  till  there  was  no  fuel 
left  to  supply  it. 

"  About  nine  years  before  her  death,  she  return- 
ed from  London  at  her  usual  time,  much  disordered 
by  a  complaint  which  was  supposed  to  be  the  Saint 
Anthony's  Fire.  In  the  course  of  the  summer  she 
was  reduced  by  it  to  the  lowest  extremity;  and 
was  given  over  by  her  medical  attendants,  and  by 
all  her  friends.  She  thought  herself  going,  and  was 
prepared  for  the  important  change.  Though  her 
strength  failed,  her  spirits  never  flagged,  and  she 
spoke  of  her  ai)proaching  departure,  with  the  most 
pious  hope  and  resignation,  and  even  with  cheerful- 
ness. Her  life,  she  said,  had  been  a  prosperous  and 
happy  one,  and  if  it  seemed  fit  to  God  she  would 
be  glad  to  hve  longer:  if  it  was  his  pleasure  to 
take  her,  she  was  ready  and  willing  to  depart ;  and 
trusted  to  his  mercies,  through  Christ,  for  the  for- 
giveness of  her  sins.  It  pleased  God,  however, 
that  she  should  return  from  the  very  verge  of  the 
grave;  but  her  recovery  was  slow,  and  incom- 
plete at  best;  and  she  never  recovered  her  former 
strength." 

At  length,  the  period  approached,  when  this  dis- 
tinguished person  was  to  take  her  final  leave  of  all 
transitory  objects.  Her  strength  gradually  wasted; 
and  to  most  of  her  friends  it  was  evident,  that  slie 
was  journeying  slowly,  but  surely,  towards  the 
house  appointed  for  all  limng.     Yet  "  her  piety 


344  ELIZABETH      CARTER. 

was  as  fervent,  her  temper  as  mild,  and  her  wished 
for  those  she  loved  as  warm,  as  in  the  time  of  her 
strong  health."  She  retaiiieil  her  senses  till  within 
a  few  hours  of  lier  decease:  which  took  place  in 
the  winter  of  the  year  1806,  and  in  the  eighty-ninth 
year  of  her  age. 

A  few  extracts  from  the  writings  of  this  truly 
valuable  woman,  will  further  evince  the  excellence 
of  her  religious  principles ;  the  piety  and  devotion 
of  her  mind ;  and  her  entire  resignation  to  the  will 
of  her  heavenly  Father. 

THOUGHTS    ON   THE   PRESENT   STATE    OF 
AFFAIRS,    1752. 

The  last  winter  has  been  a  calamitous  one  to  sev- 
eral nations,  and  alarming  to  our  own ;  and  the 
summer  prospect  is  clouded  with  impending  dan- 
gers. What  method  can  I  take  to  avoid  the 
threatened  evil,  or  to  quiet  my  fears  ?  Can  I  fly 
into  some  distant  country,  and  endeavor  to  secure 
myself  there  ?  My  connections  and  attachments 
render  this  an  impracticable  scheme.  Shall  I  de- 
pend for  protection  on  the  assistance  of  my  friends? 
They  are  helpless  and  defenceless  as  myself  Is 
there  then  no  refuge  left?  Yes;  a  reliance  on 
Him,  in  whose  hand  are  the  issues  of  life  and  deaths 
and  the  disposal  of  all  events. 

And  have  I  then  been  careful  to  secure  an  in- 
terest in  this  Almighty  Protector,  this  unfailing 


ELIZABETH      CARTER.  345 

friend  ?    Dare  I,  with  humble  hope  and  confidence, 
look  up  for  aid  and  support  to  that  God,  who  is  of 
purer  eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity?     This  is  an 
awful  and  important  inquiry,  and  merits  my  most 
serious  attention.     Let  me  examine  my  own  heart. 
Of  atrocious  crimes   perhaps  it  fully  acquits  me: 
but  to  these  have  I  any  temptation  ?     In  avoiding 
them,  how  little  have  I  to  boast !     But  are  there 
not  laults  of  a  less  observable  nature,  and  often 
much  too  slightly  overlooked,   for  which,  in   my 
situation,  I  am  strictly  accountable  ?     By  the  gra- 
cious dispensation  of  Providence,  I  am  a  Christian ; 
have  I  duly  considered  what  this  sacred  character 
imports  ?  what  a  strictness  of  behavior  my  profes- 
sion requires  ?     Is  rehgion,  and  a  perpetual  view  to 
the  solemn  account  which  I  must  one  day  render, 
the  governing  principle  of  my  life  ?     Does  it,  as  far 
as  mortal  frailty  will  permit,  influence  my  whole 
conduct,  my  actions,  my  discourses,  and  accompany 
me  even  in  my  diversions  and  amusements  ? 

In  this  season  of  public  danger,  let  me  consider 
in  what  particulars  I  am  faulty ;  and  sincerely  en- 
deavor, by  the  Divine  assistance,  to  correct  what  I 
discover  to  be  wrong.- 

Fear,  when  it  terminates  in  itself,  is  a  painful 
and  contemptible  passion;  but,  properly  applied, 
may  be  sanctified  to  a  noble  use.  That  use,  our 
blessed  Saviour  has  pointed  out  to  me.  If  the  fear 
of  God  influences  me  to  correct  whatever  would 
tend  to  deprive  me  of  his  favor  and  protection, 
15* 


346  ELIZABETH      CAETER. 

what  else  shall  I  have  to  fear?  Whatever  be  the 
event  of  the  present  alarming  dangers  to  me,  if  I 
do  not  forfeit  my  hope  in  the  Divine  Goodness,  it 
will  certainly  be  happy.  Though  the  earth  trem- 
bles beneath  my  feet,  my  soul  will  be  immoveably 
fixed  on  the  Rock  of  Ages  /  and  when  the  sword 
hangs  over  my  head,  I  shall  acquaint  my  self  with 
Qod^  and  he  at  peace. 

EXTRACT   FROM    A    LETTER   TO    . 


To  consider  the  Gospel  merely  as  a  subject  of 
speculation,  which  we  are  at  liberty  to  examine,  or 
let  alone,  just  as  our  other  avocations  will  allow,  is 
not  having  such  a  sense  of  its  awful  importance,  as 
gives  room  to  expect  any  satisfaction  from  the  in- 
quiry. To  examine  it  more  diligently,  and  more  in 
earnest,  yet  entirely  with  a  confidence  in  our  own 
understanding,  is  not  having  a  proper  sense  of  hu- 
man weakness.  Religion  is  a  most  solemn  trans- 
action between  God  and  the  soul,  founded  on  every 
relation  in  which  we  stand  to  him ;  and  it  is  only 
by  keeping  up  a  perpetual  intercourse  with  him, 
and  by  an  endeavor  to  form  not  only  our  outward 
behavior,  but  the  whole  internal  frame  of  our 
mind,  with  a  reference  to  his  approbation,  that  we 
can  become  sufliciently  divested  of  all  wrong  ten- 
dencies, to  be  dul}'-  qualified  to  judge  of  the  truth 
of  any.  revelation  proposed  in  his  name. 

Those  who  sincerely  wish  to  make  his  will  tha 


ELIZABETH     CAKTEK.  347 

first  object  of  their  choice,  who  submit  their  under- 
standing to  his  direction,  and  implore  and  depend 
on  his  assistance  to  guard  them  from  error,  his 
goodness  will  never  suffer  to  be  flxtally  misled  :  and 
they  will  enter  on  their  inquiry  with  a  full  security 
of  obtaining  every  degree  of  conviction  which  is 
necessary  to  their  virtue  and  their  peace.  So  true, 
I  believe,  is  the  position  that  conviction  depends 
on  the  heart,  that  I  think  you  will  not,  in  the 
whole  circle  of  your  observation,  find  a  single  in- 
stance of  a  person  whose  heart  was  disposed  in  the 
manner  which  I  have  described,  who  ever  con- 
tinued an  unbeliever. 

ON   THE    OCCASION    OF    MAKING    HEK   WILL. 

In  the  solemn  act  of  making  one's  last  will,  some- 
thing surely  ought  to  be  added  to  the  mere  forms 
of  law.  Upon  this  occasion,  which  is  a  kind  of 
taking  leave  of  the  world,  I  acknowledge  with 
gratitude  and  thanksgiving,  how  much  I  owe  to 
the  Divine  Goodness,  for  a  hfe  distinguished  by  in- 
numerable and  unmerited  blessings. 

Next  to  God,  the  supreme  and  original  author 
of  all  happiness,  I  desire  to  express  my  thankful- 
ness to  those  whom  he  has  made  the  instruments 
of  conveying  his  benefits  to  me.  Most  particularly 
I  am  indebted  to  my  father,  for  his  kindness  and 
indulgence  to  me,  in  every  instance,  and  especially 
in  the  uncommon  care  and  pains  he  has  taken  m 


348  ELIZABETH     CAETEE. 

my  education  ;  which  has  been  the  source  of  such 
a  variety  of  reasonable  pleasures,  as  well  as  of  very 
great  advantages  in  my  conversation  with  the 
world. 

I  likewise  very  heartily  thank  my  mother,*  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  for  all  the  instances  of  kind- 
ness and  affection,  by  which  they  have  contributed 
to  the  comfort  of  my  life.  If,  in  this  disposition  of 
my  affairs,  I  appear  to  have  made  any  distinction, 
I  entreat  them  to  believe,  that  not  any  difference 
in  my  own  good-will  to  them,  but  a  regard  to  their 
different  circumstances,  has  been  the  real  motive 
of  it. 

Besides  my  own  family,  there  are  very  many 
others,  to  whom  I  have  been  obliged,  for  very  con- 
siderable advantages,  in  the  assistance  and  plea- 
sures of  friendship.  Of  these  I  retain  a  most  affec- 
tionate and  grateful  memory;  and  desire  all  my 
intimate  friends  to  consider  themselves  as  included 
in  my  sincere  acknowledgments. 

And  now,  O  gracious  God,  whether  it  be  thy 
will  to  remove  me  speedily  from  the  world,  or  to 
allot  me  a  longer  time  in  it,  on  Thee  alone  I  de- 
pend for  happiness  both  here  and  hereafter.  I  ac- 
knowledge my  own  unworthiness,  and  that  all  my 
claim  to  thy  favor  is  founded  on  thy  infinite  good- 
ness in  the  merciful  dispensation  of  the  Gospel.  I 
implore  the  pardon  of  all  my  sins,  and  humbly 
hope  for  those  pleasures  which  are  at  thy  right 
*  Her  mother-in-law,  who  was  then  living. 


ELIZABETH     CARTER.  349 

I\and  for  evermore,  in  and  through  Him  by  whom 
all  thy  blessings  are  conveyed,  my  blessed  Lord, 
Redeemer,  and  only  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ. 

Elizabeth  Carter. 

February  9,  1Y59. 

A   MORNING   PRAYER. 

O  God,  ray  merciful  Father,  I  humbly  thank 
Thee  for  preserving  me  in  safety  the  past  night,  for 
refreshing  me  with  quiet  sleep,  and  raising  me  in 
health  and  peace,  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  world 
which  Thou  hast  made  so  beautiful,  and  in  which 
Thou  hast  allotted  me  such  innumerable  mercies. 
I  bless  thee  for  all  the  comforts  of  my  life  ;  for 
health  and  plenty,  good  parents,  kind  relations, 
and  kind  friends ;  I  beg  of  Thee  to  bless  and 
reward  them,  and  to  make  me  dutiful  and  grateful 
to  them. 

Under  a  sense  of  my  own  weakness,  I  beg  the 
assistance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  to  enable  me  to  resist 
the  dangerous  temptations  and  bad  examples  of 
the  world,  the  wrong  dispositions  of  my  own  heart 
and  temper,  and  the  snares  of  Satan.  I  humbly 
beseech  Thee  to  take  my  inexperienced  youth 
under  thy  protection.  Keep  me,  O  Lord,  from 
presumption  and  vanity ;  from  idle  dissipation,  and 
extravagant  expenses.  Impress  on  my  soul  a  con- 
stant regard  to  that  awful  account  of  all  my 
thoughts,  words,  and  actions,  which  I  must  give  to 


350  ELIZABETH     CARTER. 

Thee,  at  the  dreadful  day  of  judgment.  Grant  me 
a  firm  persuasion,  that  all  my  peace  of  mind  here, 
and  my  happiness  hereafter,  must  depend  on  ray 
improvement  in  piety  and  in  the  duties  of  a  Chris- 
tian life.  Teach  me  to  rely  with  perfect  depend- 
ence upon  Thee,  who  alone  knowest  what  is  truly 
good  for  me,  and  dispose  me  to  cheerful  content- 
ment, in  whatever  condition  Thou  seest  fit  to 
place  me. 

I  beseech  Thee  to  guard  me  this  day  from  all 
danger,  particularly  from  the  greatest  of  all  evils, 
the  doing  any  thing  displeasing  to  Thee.  I  hum- 
bly offer  up  all  my  petitions  in  the  name,  and 
through  the  intercession,  of  my  blessed  Saviour, 
who  has  taught  me,  when  I  pray,  to  say,  Our 
Father,  &c. 


We  shall  close  the  memoir  of  this  pious  and 
distinguished  female  with  an  honorable  testimony 
to  her  talents  and  character,  as  well  as  to  those  of 
Elizabeth  Smith,  selected  from  one  of  the  publica- 
tions of  the  celebrated  Hannah  More  : 

"  Against  learning,  against  talents  of  any  kind, 
©thing  can  steady  the  head,  unless  you  fortify  the 
.eart  with  real  Christianity.  In  raising  the  moral 
edifice  we  must  sink  deep  in  proportion  as  w^e 
build  high.  We  must  widen  the  foundation,  if  we 
ytend  the  superstructure.  Religion  alone  can 
junteract  the  aspiiings  of  genius,  can  regulate  the 


ELIZABETH     CARTER.  351 

pride  of  talents.  And  yet  such  women  as  are  dis- 
posed to  be  vain  of  their  comparatively  petty 
attainments,  look  up  with  admiration  to  those  con- 
temporary shining  examples,  the  venerable  Eliza- 
beth Carter,  and  the  blooming  Elizabeth  Smith.  I 
knew  them  both ;  and  to  know,  was  to  revere 
them.  In  them  let  our  young  ladies  contemplate 
profound  and  various  learning,  chastised  by  true 
Christian  humility.  In  them,  let  them  venerate 
acquirements,  which  would  have  been  distinguished 
in  a  university,  meekly  softened,  and  beautifully 
shaded,  by  the  gentle  exertion  of  every  domestic 
virtue ;  the  unaffected  exercise  of  every  feminine 
employment." 


SECTION-    IX. 

SIR     WILLIAM     JONES. 

Sir  William  Jones,  an  eminent  lawyer,  and 
most  accomplished  scholar,  was  born  in  London,  in 
the  year  1746.  He  lost  his  father  when  he  was 
only  three  years  of  age ;  and  the  care  of  his  edu- 
cation devolved  on  his  mother,  a  woman  of  uncom- 
mon mental  endowments.  She  was  very  solicitous 
to  kindle  in  his  young  mind  a  love  for  reading; 
which  she  effected,  by  constantly  replying  to  those 
questions  that  a  native  ardor  for  instruction  inces- 
santly prompted,  "Read,  and  you  will  know." 
This  he  did  to  a  great  extent,  at  a  very  early  period. 

He  was  not  one  of  those  happy  geniuses,  (if 
such  there  are,)  who  can  make  brilliant  acquisitions 
without  pains.  It  was,  on  the  contrary,  by  the 
most  sedulous  industry,  and  the  renunciation  of 
the  usual  diversions  of  a  school-boy,  joined  with  the 
natural  gift  of  a  very  retentive  memory,  that  he 
was  enabled  to  lay  in  those  ample  stores  of  knowl- 
edge, by  which  he  became  so  highly  distinguished. 

In  1764,  he  was  entered  of  University  college, 
Oxford ;  and  his  excellent  mother,  who  devoted 
her  time  almost  entirely  to  him,  fixed  her  residence 


SIR     WILLIAM     JONES.  353 

in  the  same  city.  This  affectionate  and  judicious 
attention  must  have  preserved  him  from  many- 
dangers,  and  was  doubtless  productive  of  great 
comfort  and  advantage  to  him.  lie  ever  regarded 
lier  with  true  filial  affection  and  gratitude  ;  and  the 
desire  of  relieving  her  from  the  burden  of  his  edu- 
cation, rendered  a  fellowship  in  the  college  the 
great  object  of  his  wishes.  This  soon  fell  into  his 
possession,  and  placed  him,  according  to  his  own 
idea,  in  a  state  of  independence.  He  had  the  pri- 
vate tuition  of  young  Lord  Althorpe,  now  Earl 
Spencer ;  with  whom  he  made  a  tour  to  the  conti- 
nent, by  which  he  was  introduced  into  the  most 
respectable  company,  and  derived  not  only  amuse- 
ment, but  much  instruction. 

As  he  was  desirous  of  obtaining  a  station  in  so- 
ciety adequate  to  his  endowments,  and  by  which 
he  might  be,  in  no  ordinary  degree,  useful  to  his 
fellow-creatures,  he  chose  the  profession  of  law,  for 
the  study  of  which  he  had  acquired  a  particular 
predilection.  He  entered  at  the  Temple  in  the 
year  1770;  and  four  years  afterwards  he  was  called 
to  the  Bar.  He  did  not,  however,  sacrifice  to  pro- 
fessional studies  all  those  literary  pursuits  which 
had  so  delightfully  occupied  him.  He  published 
several  volumes  of  poems,  partly  translations  from 
the  poets  of  Asia,  and  a  number  of  critical  disser- 
tations, which  attracted  the  notice  and  admiration 
of  persons,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  who  were 
competent  judges  of  the  subjects. 


354  SIK     WILLIAM     JONES. 

The  post  of  one  of  the  judges  in  the  English 
territories  of  India,  had  long  been  a  particular  ob- 
ject of  his  wishes,  principally  on  account  of  the  op- 
portunity it  would  afford  him  of  gratifying  his 
ardent  desire  of  oriental  researches.  And  in  1783, 
he  received  the  appointment  of  a  judge  of  the  su- 
preme court  of  judicature  at  Fort  William,  in 
Bengal ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  honor  of  knight- 
hood was  conferred  upon  him.  About  this  period, 
he  married  a  most  amiable  woman,  whose  cultiva- 
ted mind  and  excellent  heart,  were  finely  adapted 
to  his  views  and  happiness. 

The  field  of  action  and  enquiry  which  opened  to 
him  in  India,  was  immense.  He  planned  the  insti- 
tution of  a  society  in  Calcutta,  similar  to  the  Royal 
Society  of  London  ;  and  the  labors  and  discoveries 
of  this  institution  have  been  very  interesting  and 
eminently  useful.  For  his  extensive  researches 
into  the  history,  laws,  literature,  and  religion  of 
India,  the  world  is  greatly  indebted  to  him ;  and 
from  them  the  cause  of  Christianity  has  derived  no 
inconsiderable  aid. 

This  learned  and  excellent  man  was,  in  the  prime 
of  his  days,  and  when  apparently  in  good  health, 
seized  with  a  disorder  which,  in  about  a  week,  put 
a  period  to  his  valuable  life.  His  biographer.  Lord 
Teignmouth,  observes,  that  "  the  progress  of  the 
complaint  was  uncommonly  rapid,  and  terminated 
fatally  on  the  27th  of  April,  1794.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  that  day,  his  attendants,  alarmed  at  the  evi- 


SIR     WILLIAM      JONES.  355 

dent  symptoms  of  approaching  dissolution,  came 
precipitately  to  call  the  friend  who  has  now  the 
melancholy  task  of  recording  the  mourn t'ul  event : 
not  a  moment  was  lost  in  repairing  to  his  house. 
He  was  lying  on  his  bed  in  a  posture  of  medita- 
tion ;  and  the  only  symptom  of  remaining  life,  was 
a  small  degree  of  motion  in  the  heart,  which  after 
a  few  seconds  ceased,  and  he  expired  without  a 
pang  or  groan.  His  bodily  suifering,  fiom  the 
complacence  of  his  features  and  the  ease  of  his  at- 
titude, could  not  have  been  severe  ;  and  his  mind 
must  have  derived  consolation  from  those  sources, 
where  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  seeking  it,  and 
where  alone,  in  our  last  moments,  it  can  ever  be 
found." 

When  Sir  William  Jones  was  visited  with  his 
last  illness,  he  was  in  the  forty-eighth  year  of  his 
age,  possessing  the  full  vigor  of  his  mental  powers, 
and  occupied  with  vast  projects  of  literature,  which 
might  have  employed  an  active  life  protracted  to 
the  utmost  limits  allotted  to  the  human  race.  Few 
men  have  died  more  respected,  or  more  regretted, 
and  few  have  passed  a  more  useful  and  irreproach- 
able life. 

The  vast  extent  of  his  erudition  has  been  dis- 
played in  his  literary  labors ;  to  which  it  may  be 
added,  that  scarcely  any  subject  of  human  research 
escaped  his  notice.  As  a  linguist,  he  has  rarely,  if 
ever,  been  equalled  ;  for  his  list  of  languages  com- 
prehends, "  eight  studied  critically  ;  eight  studied 


356  SIR     WILLIAM     JONES. 

less  perfectly,  but  all  intelligible  with  a  dictionary  ; 
and  twelve  studied  least  perfectly,  but  all  attain- 
able." His  industry  in  acquiring  elementary  knowl- 
edge was  not,  however,  productive  of  dryness : 
taste  and  elegance  marked  all  his  exertions.  As  a 
poet,  he  would  probably  have  risen  to  the  first 
class,  had  his  ardor  for  transplanting  foreign  beau* 
ties  allowed  him  leisure  for  the  exercise  of  his  own 
invention. 

His  private  virtues  were  not  inferior  to  his  intel- 
lectual endowments.  As  a  son,  a  husband,  a  friend, 
and  a  citizen,  he  fulfilled  every  duty  in  an  exem- 
plary manner.  His  integrity  in  the  exercises  of  his 
judicial  office  was  above  all  suspicion.  He  was  to- 
tally free  from  pedantry,  as  well  as  from  that  arro- 
gance and  self-sufficiency  which  sometimes  accom- 
pany and  disgrace  the  greatest  abilities.  His  pres- 
ence was  the  delight  of  every  society  which  his 
conversation  exhilarated  and  improved ;  and  his 
w^hole  conduct  bespoke  a  manly  and  independent 
spirit.  A  rational  and  exalted  piety  crowned  the 
whole  of  his  great  attainments,  and  excellent  qual- 
ities. 

"  The  mind  of  Sir  William  Jones,"  says  his  pious 
and  elegant  biographer,  "  was  never  tainted  with 
infidelity.  But  there  was  a  period,  before  his  judg- 
ment was  matured,  and  before  he  had  studied  the 
Scriptures  with  close  attention,  when  his  belief  in 
the  truth  of  Revelation  was  tinged  with  doubts. 
^nt  these  were  the  transient  clouds,  which,  for  a 


SIR      ^VILLIAM      JOXES.  357 

while,  obscure  llie  dawn,  and  disperse  witli  the  ris- 
ing sun.  His  lieart  and  liis  judgment  told  liim, 
that  religion  is  a  subject  of  supreme  importance, 
and  the  evidence  of  its  truth  worthy  of  his  most 
serious  investigation.  He  sat  down  to  the  enquny 
Avithout  prejudice,  and  rose  from  it  with  a  convic- 
tion which  the  studies  of  his  future  life  invigor- 
ated and  confirmed.  The  completion  of  the  pro- 
phecies relating  to  our  Saviour,  had  impressed 
npon  his  youthful  mind,  this  invaluable  truth,  that 
the  language  of  Isaiah,  and  other  prophets,  Avas 
inspired  ;  and  in  this  belief,  to  which  fresh  proofs 
Avere  progressively  added,  he  closed  his  life.  He 
has,  I  trust,  received,  through  the  merits  of  his 
Redeemer,  the  reward  of  his  faith. 

"In  matters  of  eternal  concern,  the  authority  of 
the  highest  human  opinions  has  no  claim  to  be  ad- 
mitted, as  a  ground  of  belief;  but  it  may,  with  the 
strictest  propriety,  be  opposed  to  that  of  men  of 
inferior  learning  and  penetration  ;  nnd  whilst  the 
pious  derive  satisfaction  from  the  perusal  of  senti- 
ments according  Avith  their  own,  those  who  doubt 
or  disbelieve,  should  be  induced  to  Aveigh,  Avith 
candor  and  imi)artiality,  arguments  Avhich  have 
produced  conviction  in  the  minds  of  the  best,  the 
Avisest,  and  the  most  learned  of  mankind. 

"  Among  such  as  have  professed  a  steady  belief 
in  the  doctrine  of  Christianity,  Avhere  shall  greater 
names  be  found  than  those  of  B.icon  and  Xew- 
ton  ?      Of  the  f  >rmer,   and   of  Locke,   it  may  bo 


ob<»orv^«^,  that  thoy  x^oro  l>t>th  imunators  in  :i>ci- 
onoo:  «^is(lMinii\jv  t(>  follow  tho  :i;Aii'Os  of  antiquity 
throuiili  tlu^  \>onti'n  pnthsi  of  error,  tlioy  br<^kt> 
tln'OUi>'h  ]->rojn<^ioos  which  ha«^  lonj^  ohstruotot^  tho 
procTo^>*  of  :^onn«^  lvnoNvlo(^i>H\  An<^  thoy  l.vit^  tho 
fonnt^ation  oC  scion<^o  on  solitl  4j;rountl ;  xn  hilst.  tho 
j^vnins  oC  Xewton  h^^  him  to  <^isoovorioj*  of  nn 
;iniM'/inj^  extent.. 

"  Tlu^se  men,  to  their  j^roat  praise,  antl  we  may 
hope  to  their  t^tiM-nnl  happinosA,  «h^vt^l(\^  n^ueh  oC 
their  time  to  the  f^tvu^y  oC  the  Seri]>tnre<;.  If  tho 
oviihMiee  of  Ivevelaiion  ha(^  bet^n  w  eak,  who  woro 
hitttr  quali1ie<!  to  cxpojs^o  itoji  nnsonnt^nosis ?  Why 
were  miniU  ^^•hicl^  boh^ly  <^est.roye(^  t.lu>  prt;in<^ioos 
in  sei>>nc^.  Mind  to  t,ho:J»e  in  relig-ion  ?  Tliey  read, 
('\  \n>in(H^,  Wt^iji'hed,  and  helieved  ;  and  the  i?wime 
N  iii'i^rous  intelliu't.,  that.  dis}>ei*:^ed  the  mi>»t.s  vrhich 
oonoeahv^  the  temple  of  hmnan  "kno\Aledp:e,  w^as 
it>»elf  illnminated  vxith  the  radiant  trntlis  of  l>ix ine 
Ivevolation.  Such  ant-horitie:!;,  and  let  me  now  >inK 
join  to  them  the  name  of  Sir  William  .Itme^  are 
de>»or>'t»dly  entitlod  to  groat  o>{timat.ion. 

*'  In  ^^omo  of  his  papery  containing  a  delineation 
of  his  ^aify  occupations,  1  fmd  a  |>ortion  of  his 
time  allotted  to  the  ]>erusa.l  of  the  Script nres. 
And  1  am  aiithorized  to  add,  not  only  from  what 
ap]>t>Mrs  in  his  print t>d  '^x  t^rlvs  and  )>n\ate  memo- 
randa., hut  from  partii'ular  and  satisfactory  tosti- 
mony,  that  the  Tiritinj:>s  of  our  "best  dixines  en- 
p^ged   a  largo   .share  of  his  attention  ;    and  that 


SIR     W  I  I,  L  I  A  M     JONES.  35C» 

private  devotion  was  not  neglected  by  luni.  The 
tbllowing  lines,  which  afford  a  proof  both  o(  liis 
taste  and  piety,  were  written  by  him  in  the  year 
1780,  after  a  perusal  of  the  eighth  sermon  of 
Barrow  : 

"  '  As  nu'adows  parohM.  bro\ni  irnivosi.  ami  withoriug  flow'r*. 
Imbiho  tho  spirkliiiij  ilow  and  jjeiiial  show'rs  ; 
As  chill  dark  air  inhalos  tho  nioruiug  boam  ; 
As  thirsty  hearts  oujov  tho  ijolid  stroam  ; 
Thus  to  luati's  j^ratofiil  s*nil.  fn^ii  hoavon.  doscond 
Tho  morcios  of  his  Fathor.  Lord,  aud  Friond."  " 

Sir  Williaiu  Jones,  in  his  Bible,  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing note  ;  whicli,  coming  fron\  a  man  o(  his 
profound  erudition,  and  pertect  knowledge  of  tho 
oriental  languages,  customs,  and  manners,  must 
be  considered  as  a  powerful  testimony,  not  only  to 
the  sublimity,  but  to  the  Divine  inspiration,  o(  tlio 
sacred  Scriptures : 

"  I  have,''  says  he,  "  carefully  and  regularly 
perused  these  holy  Scriptures ;  and  am  of  opinion 
that  the  volume,  independently  oi^  its  Divine  ori- 
gin, contains  more  sublimity,  purer  morality,  more 
important  history,  and  liner  strains  oi'  eloquence, 
than  can  be  collected  from  all  other  books,  in  what- 
ever language  they  may  have  been  written." 

As  religion  was  the  subject  of  his  meditations 
in  health,  it  was  more  forcibly  impressed  upon  his 
niind  during  illness.  He  knew  the  duty  of  resig- 
nation to  the  wili  of  hi^5  ">raker,  and  of  dependence 
on   the  merits  oi'  a  Redeemer.     These  sentiments 


S60  SIR     WILLIAM     JONES. 

are  expressed  in  :i  short  prayer,  which  he  composed 
during  his  indisposition  in  1784;  and  which  is  in 
the  following  words : 

"  O  thou  Bestower  of  all  good  !  if  it  please  thee 
to  continue  my  easy  tasks  in  this  life,  grant  me 
strength  to  perform  them  as  a  faithful  servant :  but 
if  thy  wisdom  hath  willed  to  end  them  by  this  thy 
visitation,  admit  me,  not  w-eighing  my  unworthi' 
ness,  but  through  thy  mercy  declared  in  Christ, 
into  thy  heavenly  mansions,  that  I  may  continually 
advance  in  happiness,  by  advancing  in  true  knowl- 
edge and  awful  love  of  thee.     Thy  will  be  done  !" 

Another  short  prayer,  composed  by  him,  on 
waking  one  morning  at  sea  during  the  voyage  to 
India,  is  worthy  of  insertion  : 

"  Graciously  accept  our  thanks,  thou  Giver  of  all 
good,  for  having  preserved  us  another  night,  and 
bestowed  on  us  another  day.  O,  grant  that  on 
this  day  w^e  may  meditate  on  thy  law  with  joyful 
veneration  ;  and  keej)  it  in  all  our  actions,  with 
firm  obedience." 

Amongst  the  papers  written  by  this  truly  excel- 
lent man,  was  a  prayer,  composed  by  him  on  the 
first  day  of  the  year  1782,  about  twelve  vears  be- 
fore his  death.  It  is  eviaeniiy  tne  enusion  oi  a 
pious  mind,  deeply  impressed  with  an  awful  sense 
of  the  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  benevolence  of 
his  Creator  ;  and  of  the  ignorance,  'weakness,  and 
depravity  of  human  nature.  It  contains  sublime 
views  of  the  Divine  attributes ;  and  the  most  hum- 


SIR     AV  I  L  L  I  A  M     JONES.  361 

bie  dependence  on  God,  for  light  and  ability  to 
serve  him  acceptably.  Tlio  following  passages  are 
selected  from  tliis  solemn  and  devout  composition : 

"  Etwnal  and  Incomprehensible  Mind,  who,  by 
thy  boundless  power,  before  time  began,  createdst 
innumerable  worlds  for  thy  glory,  and  innumerable 
orders  of  beings  for  their  happiness,  which  thy  in- 
finite goodness  prompted  Thee  to  desire,  and  thy 
infinite  wisdom  enabled  Thee  to  know  I  we,  thy 
creatures,  vanish  into  nothing  before  thy  supreme 
Majesty.  To  thy  power  we  humbly  submit ;  of 
thy  goodness  we  devoutly  implore  protection  ;  on 
thy  wisdom  we  firmly  and  cheerfully  rely.  Irra- 
diate our  minds  with  all  useful  truth  ;  instil  into 
our  hearts  a  spirit  of  general  benevolence  ;  give 
understanding  to  the  foolish  ;  meekness  to  the 
proud ;  temperance  to  the  dissolute  ;  foititude  to 
the  feeble-hearted  ;  hope  to  the  des^wnding  ;  faith 
to  the  unbelieving  ;  diligence  to  the  slothful ;  pa- 
tience to  those  who  are  in  pain  ;  and  thy  celestial 
aid  to  those  who  are  in  danger:  comfort  the  af- 
flicted ;  relieve  the  distressed  ;  supply  the  hungry 
with  salutary  food,  and  the  thirsty  with  a  i)lentiful 
stream.  Impute  not  our  doubts  to  indifference, 
nor  our  slow^ness  of  belief  to  hardness  of  heart ; 
but  be  indulgent  to  our  imperfect  nature,  and  sup- 
ply our  imperfections  by  thy  heavenly  favor. 

"  Whenever  we  address  thee  in  our  retirement 
from  the  vanities  of  the  world,  if  our  prayers  are 
foolish,  pity  us ;  if  presumptuous,  pardon  us ;  if 
16 


362  SIR     WILI^IAM     JONES. 

acceptable  to  thee,  grant  them,  all-powerful  God, 
grant  them !  And  as,  with  our  living  voice,  and 
with  our  dying  lips,  we  will  express  our  submission 
to  thy  decrees,  adore  thy  providence,  and  bless  thy 
dispensations ;  so,  in  all  future  states,  to  which  we 
reverently  hope  thy  goodness  will  raise  us,  grant 
that  we  may  continue  praising,  admiring,  venera- 
ting, worshipping  thee  more  and  more,  through 
worlds  without  number,  and  ages  without  end." 


CONCLUSION. 

The  Reader,  before  he  closes  this  volume,  will 
naturally  pause,  and  encourage  reflections  adapted 
to  the  subject.  He  has  been  presented  with  the 
testimonies  and  experience  of  a  number  of  his  fellow- 
creatures,  of  difterent  periods,  countries,  professions, 
and  situations  in  life.  He  has  found  them  all  uni- 
ting in  their  attestation  to  the  power  and  excellence 
of  true  i-eligion,  as  our  surest  guide  and  consolation 
through  time,  and  the  only  means  of  securing  eter- 
nal happiness. 

This  solemn  and  concurrent  testimony  is  of  great 
importance.  Much  of  it  proceeds  from  some  of  the 
most  eminent  persons  that  have  ever  appeared  in 
the  world,  whether  we  consider  their  station,  their 
abilities,  or  their  virtue.  It  is  on  a  subject  of  the 
most  interesi.:ng  nature:  and  claims  our  serious  and 
reverent  attention,  as  the  sentiments  of  men,  who 
were  too  much  enlightened  to  be  deceived  them- 
selves, and  too  deeply  affected,  as  well  as  too  virtu- 
ous, to  deceive  others.  They  expressed  their  genuine 
feelings,  and  their  unbiassed  views  of  things,  at  the 
most  awful  period  of  life. 

Sqme  of  the  persons  mentioned  in  these  memoirs 
seem  not  to  have  been  deeply  impressed  with  re- 


364  CONCLUSION. 

ligious  considerations,  till  near  the  termination  of 
their  days  ;  they  had  then  to  lament  the  misappli- 
cation of  their  time,  and  the  delay  of  the  great 
work  for  which  they  were  brought  into  existence. 
Others  appear  to  have  made  an  early,  or  more  sea- 
sonable choice  of  virtue  and  goodness  for  their 
portion ;  and  to  have  spent  a  great  part  of  their 
lives  in  the  fear  and  love  of  God,  and  in  doing  good 
to  mankind.  They  enjoyed  that  peace  of  mind 
which  the  world  could  neither  give  nor  take  away  : 
and  a  cheering  well-grounded  hope  accompanied 
them  to  the  closing  scene,  that  there  was  reserved 
for  them  a  crown  of  immortal  honor.  What  an 
evidence  on  behalf  of  piety  and  virtue !  What  a 
dissuasive  from  vice  and  folly !  And  how  anima- 
ting to  weary  travellers  to  persevere  in  the  paths 
of  goodness,  and  to  keep  their  eyes  fixed  on  that 
happy  country,  where  they  too  shall  rest  for  ever 
from  all  their  labors  ! 

But  we  live  in  a  world  of  danger  and  tempta- 
tion. Propensities  to  evil  are  powerful.  The 
riches,  honors,  and  pleasures  of  life  are  continually 
alluring  us  to  an  immoderate  love  and  pursuit  of 
them.  The  subtle  enemy  of  all  good  is  j^erpetu- 
ally  on  the  watch,  to  a^'ai^ himself  of  our  weakness 
and  exposure,  and  to  ensnare  and  destroy  us.  Our 
safety,  therefore,  consists  in  being  always  on  our 
guard  and  in  steadfastly  resisting  every  approach 
of  evil. 

But  who  is  sufficient  for  these  thins^s  ?     In  this 


COXCLUSION.  365 

situation,  how  vsliall  we  preserve  our  innocence, 
maintain  the  warfare,  and  finally  become  victo- 
rious? There  is  not  a  more  evident  and  important 
truth,  than  tliat  the  power  of  accomplishing  these 
great  ends  of  life,  is  not  of  ourselves.  It  proceeds 
from  the  grace  of  God  ;  unto  whom  we  are  directed 
to  apply  daily,  for  preservation  in  temptation,  and 
deliverance  from  evil. 

The  perusal  of  valuable  books,  reflection,  conver- 
sation, and  other  means  of  moral  and  intellectual 
improvement,  are  indeed  of  great  use  and  impor- 
tance. Besides  enlarging  the  mind,  and  promoting 
our  temporal  comfort  and  advantage,  they  may 
spread  before  us  a  pleasing  view  of  tlie  beauty  and 
excellence  of  religion  ;  and  may  occasion  some  de- 
sires for  the  possession  of  th?.t  happiness  which  it 
confers:  but  unless  the  divine  aid  be  sought  for 
and  superadded,  they  will  not  be  able  to  produce 
that  strength  of  resolution,  and  steady  persever- 
ance, which  are  necessary  to  crown  our  labors  with 
success.  Interest,  passion,  depraved  inclination, 
and  the  love  of  the  world,  in  constant  operation, 
are  too  powerfid  to  be  controlled,  by  slight  and 
temporary  convictions  of  mind,  or  feeble  and  tran- 
sient wishes  of  the  heart. 

May  we,  theiefore,  never  rest  satisfied  with  clear 
apprehensions  of  our  duty,  just  sentiments  of  the 
beauty  and  excellence  of  Religion,  and  frequent 
desii-es  to  become  its  disciples,  and  to  partake  of  its 
felicity  !    May  we  be  earnestly  and  steadfastly  con- 


366  c  o  N  c  L  ir  s  I  o  N  . 

ceruecl  to  apply,  through  the  llecleemer  of  niankind, 
to  the  Giver  of  all  good,  for  the  assistance  of  his 
Holy  Spirit,  as  the  only  power  which  can  sanctify 
and  render  effectual  our  endeavors  to  jjlease  him, 
and.  produce  in  us  the  highest  perfection  of  our 
nature  ! 

He  that  formed  our  spirits,  who  is  constantly 
j^resent  with  us,  and  without  whose  superintend- 
ence not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground,  knows  all 
our  wants  and  frailties  ;  and  is  not  only  able,  but 
abundantly  disposed,  to  grant  all  our  humble  and 
pious  requests,  and  to  give  us  every  necessary  sup- 
port and  comfort.  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given 
you ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be 
opened  unto  you."  Let  us  not,  therefore,  be  dis- 
mayed by  the  perils  of  our  situation,  whatever  they 
may  be,  or  by  the  feebleness  of  our  powers.  With 
humble  confidence,  let  us  implore  the  God  of  love 
and  mercy,  to  forgive  all  our  offences ;  to  conduct 
us  safely  through  the  present  life ;  and  to  2:>repare 
us  for  a  happy  immortality. 


ALPHABETICAL    INDEX. 


A 

PACK 

Addison,  Joseph 227 

Altamoxt 291 

Althens,  Margaret  M 316 

B 

Bacon,  Lord  Chancellor 105 

Baynard,  Ann 231 

Beattie,  James  Hat 328 

Beaufort,  Cardinal 53 

Bede,  the  Venerable 45 

Benezst,  Anthony 279 

Boerha.vve,  Herman 223 

Borgia,  C^sar 55 

Boyle,  Robert 1 G8 

Bretterg,  Catharine 117 

Burnet,  Bishop 201 

C 

Carter,  Eliz  \beth 339 

Charles  Y.  Emperor  of  Germany 61 

Confucius 21 

Cyrus 18 

D 

Doddridge,  Doctor 252 

Donne,  Doctor 113 


368  INDEX. 

E 

PAGK 

Elizabeth,  Princess  of  the  Rhine. 154 

EuGENius,  Pope 51 

G 

Gilpin,  Bernard 66 

Grey,  Lady  Jane 84 

Grotius,  Hugo 121 

H 

Hale,  Sir  Matthew 139 

Haller,  Baron 296 

Hanway,  Jonas 274 

Harrington,  Lord 129 

Hastings,  Lady  Elizabeth 242 

Hatton,  Sir  Christopher 103 

Hervey,  James 283 

Hooker,  Richard 9G 

HouSMAN,  H 247 

Howard,  John 303 

I 

Ignatius 41 

J 

Jane,  Queen  of  Navarre 79 

Janeway,  John 178 

Jenyns,  Soame 260 

Job 11 

Jones,  Sir  "William , 352 

L 

Locke,  John 173 

Louis  IX.  King  of  Prance 43 

Lyttelton,  Lord 270 


INDEX.  369 

M 

PAGF. 

Marlborough,  Eakl  of 182 

Mary,  Queex  of  England 21G 

Mason,  Sir  John 50 

Mazarine,  Cardinal 133 

MoMPESSON,  William 15'^ 

Moulin,  Peter  Du 110 

X 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac 197 

Neavton,  John 309 

o 

Orleans,  Duke  of 257 

Oxenstiern,  Chancellor  of  Sweden 119 


Pascal,  Blaise 1  (i'i 

Paul,  the  Apostle 36 

Penn,  Admiral 160 

Philip  III.  King  of  Spain 115 

POLYCARP 4:3 

R 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter 90 

Ratcliffe,  Jane 193 

Renti,  Du 152 

Richelieu.  Cardinal 127 

Rochester,  Earl  of 20G 

Rotve,  Elizabeth 233 

Russel,  Lady  Rachel 185 

S 

Salmasius 131 

ScHURMAN.  Anna  Maria 137 

16* 


370  INDEX. 

PAGK 

Selden,  John 125 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip 100 

Smith,  Elizabeth 333 

Smith,  Sir  Thomas   64 

Socrates , 26 

Solomon 14 

Stephen,  the  Protomartyr 33 

w 

"Walsingham,  Sir  Francis 81 

Watts,  Doctor 236 

Whitelocke,  Bulstrode 135 

WoLSEY,  Cardinal 5Y 

Wotton,  Sir  Henry 109 

Z 

Zimmerman •• '^^^ 


RECOMMENDATIONS  OF  THIS  WORK. 

"TTe  have  bad  frequent  occasion  to  speak  of  the  diligence, 
good  sense,  and  good  intentions,  of  Mr.  Murray  ;  and  we  con- 
gratulate him  sincerely  on  the  success  of  this  particular  work. 
"We  announce  this  edition,  because  the  alterations  and  additions 
are  so  considerable,  that  it  is  rendered  almost  a  new  work." — 
British  Critic,  July,  1801. 

"  The  exanii)les  which  Mr.  Murray  haa  here  selected,  and  tho 
judicious  rellections  which  accompany  them,  are  such  as  can 
Bcarcelv  fail  to  make  tho  best  impressions,  and  to  produce  the  best 
effects,  on  all  who  read  them  with  attention.  The  present  edition 
of  this  excellent  publication,  which  has  b-en  long  known  and- 
commended,  is  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  twenty-two  new 
characters,  filling  nearly  one  hundred  pages." — Ariti- Jacobin 
Review,  January,  1804. 

"  We  have  received  the  tmih  and  last  edition  of  this  valuable 
work.  The  improvements  made  in  it,  will  appear  from  tlic  Au- 
thor's Advertisement.  We  can  only  add  to  this  account  of  tho 
present  useful  volume,  our  hope  that  it  \^ill  be  extensively  circu- 
lated among  our  countrymen."' — Tlie  American  Review  and  Lit- 
erary Journal,  for  July,  August,  and  September,  1801. 

•'  On  reviewing  this  book,  in  its  improved  form,  we  find  the 
facts  unquestionable  and  highly  interesting — the  st)-le  correct 
and  neat — and  the  general  tendency  of  the  work  such  as  induces 
us  strongly  to  recommend  it,  especially  to  young  readers  ;  who 
love  entertainment  mingled  with  instruction." — Evangelical  Mag- 
azine, October,  1801. 

"  The  rapid  sale  of  this  small  but  valuable  collection,  has  an- 
ticipated the  commendation  we  are  desirous  to  bestow.  In  an 
exemplification  of  more  than  seventy  remarkable  characters, 
many  striking  examples  are  exhibited,  which,  in  the  quiet  hour 
of  reflection,  may  contribute  to  arrest  the  careless  and  wander- 
ing ;  to  animate  the  sincere  and  virtuous ;  and  to  convince  or 
disco\intenance  those  who  have  been  unhappily  led  to  ojipose 
the  highest  truths." — Gentleman's  Magazine,  November,  1803. 


372  RECOMMENDATIONS    OF    THIS    WORK. 

"In  an  age  like  the  present,  when  Infidelity  seems  to  havo 
thrown  away  her  mask,  as  no  longer  being  ashamed  to  disclose 
her  daring  front; — when  a  laxity  of  morals  prevails  even  aiuoug 
believers,  and  men  stick  not  to  insinuate  that  an  indulgence  in 
crimes  expressly  forbidden  by  our  holy  religion,  will  find  excuse 
iu  the  eye  of  that  Being,  who  knows  he  formed  us  frail  crea- 
tures ; — at  such  a  season,  it  is  of  the  highest  importance,  to 
recur  to  the  piety  of  those  comparatively  lew  bright  examples, 
who  will  be  of  singular  efficacy  to  excite  in  us  a  love  of  God 
and  goodness. 

"  Mr.  Murray,  with  much  commendable  zeal,  has,  iu  the  vol- 
ume before  us,  provided  the  reader  with  an  assemblage  of  vir- 
tuous and  religious  characters.  The  conduct  of  tlie  greater  part 
of  them,  at  the  approach  of  death,  affords  a  lesson  which  all  are 
concerned  to  learn — that  '  the  fear  of  the  Lord'  alone  '  is  wis- 
dom,' and  to  depart  from  evil  the  only  '  understanding.'  " — Crit- 
ical Review^  June,  1803. 

"This  judicious  biographical  selection  is  already  too  well 
known,  to  stand  in  need  of  our  recommendation  ;  but  we  never- 
theless avail  ourselves  of  a  corrected  and  augmented  edition,  to 
•add  our  approbation,  to  that  which  it  has  justly  received  from 
the  most  respectable  classes  of  the  public." — Eclectic  Review ^ 
April,  1806. 

"  This  work,  which  has  been  long  and  justly  admired,  has,  in 
the  last  edition,  received  many  alterations  and  improvements ; 
and,  in  its  present  enlarged  state,  forms,  in  our  opinion,  one  of 
the  best  books  that  can  be  put  into  the  hands  of  young  people." 
—  Ghiardian  of  Education,  August,  1803. 

"That  'examples  draw,  where  precepts  fail,'  is  a  truth  which 
has  been  acknowledged  in  all  ages  and  nations;  and  on  the 
strength  of  this  principle,  Mr.  Murray  has  had  recourse  to  ex- 
perience, in  evincing  the  power  and  importance  o^  religion.  He 
has  thus  furnished  an  interesting  collection  of  testimonies ;  and 
we  wonder  not,  tliat  a  work  so  instructive  and  amusing,  as  well 
as  impressive,  should  have  been  generally  patronised.  It  is  a 
book  which  may  be  read  with  profit,  by  persons  in  all  situations; 
and  with  the  rising  generation,  it  may  answer  the  double  pur- 
pose, of  improving  them  in  biography  and  in  virtue." — Monthly 
Review,  August,  1801. 


